A DIFFERENT OUTLOOK
It was almost being in a new town, Laverne thought. They had trotted
all over this bluff, to be sure; they had looked over to Sausalito, up
and down the bay, and to the wonderful ocean that reached to China.
But before they had been rather hidden away in a valley between the
ridges, and from the windows you could see very little. She was quite
wild at first, running from window to window, and calling on Miss
Holmes to see this or that.
Then they had a Chinaman to come in and help them settle, and that
amused her very much. He understood, but could not speak much English,
and she did wonder why he should tack another syllable to the short
words by adding the double e. But he was very handy and obedient,
quick to see, and the soft shoes that made no clatter allowed him to
go about so quietly that he often surprised one. His name was Ah Ling.
"I think I like Pablo better," she said gravely. "Then he knows so
many things about the country and the missions and the priests, and
the races of the Spaniards, and they did have bull fights, you know,
they have some now. Uncle Jason said he must not tell me about them,
they were too cruel. Do you suppose Pablo will come?"
Jason Chadsey had made the old Mexican an offer to come and live with
them, but he was loath to leave his little hut and his independence.
He knew Pablo could be trusted anywhere with the little girl, and that
he was a good gardener. He had even offered him a new hut, and Pablo
was taking matters into consideration as he lolled in the sun and
smoked his pipe. He did not want to be too hard worked, what good did
so much money do these Americanos; they went on working and working
and hustling the life out of one.
Here was the old Franciscan Mission where the first settlement was
made by the Fathers. It might have had the semi-solitude in those
early years, for all about was poetic enough. When it became a Mexican
province early in the century it had been stripped of its treasures,
and was even now a poor unsightly ruin with its few padres eking out
their subsistence and saying prayers for the living and the dead in
the little Campo Santo. Presently a modern cathedral was to overshadow
it, but that had not come yet, with the shops and dwellings that were
to crowd it still closer. But now there were outlying fields, tangles
of shrubbery and vines run wild. Not so many trees as farther down,
but still some that withstood the ocean blasts. And there was Alcatras
and Buena Yerba; almost within a stone's throw, it seemed, in the
clear air that often foreshortened space. Laverne never wearied
studying the marvellous pictures, and when her thoughts went back to
the dreary little Maine village she always gave a shiver.
The house was a newer one, its first story of adobe, as so many were
in the early days. It was not nearly so small, to begin with, and
there was so much entertainment buying furniture and supplying
household needs. Jason Chadsey had picked up a number of curious
articles from the ships coming in from foreign ports, some that would
have been the envy of a connoisseur.
But the early spring was rushing on again and every leaf and spear and
weed grew as if by magic.
One morning they had a visitor who came in a carriage, and Miss Holmes
glanced out in some surprise.
"Why, it's my friend Miss Alwood--you remember Miss Grace, Laverne. I
haven't seen her this long while," and the next instant she was
welcoming her warmly.
"We thought you had dropped out of existence. Why, even the Dawsons
have heard nothing from you--let me see--you went down to Santa Cruz
with an invalid lady----"
"Yes." Miss Alwood gave a short amused sound that was hardly a laugh,
and continued: "Well, there was plenty of money, but she was about as
queer as they make them. She had come from Baltimore, but she had some
of the worst New England features, though I think they do not belong
altogether to the Puritan birthright. But it kept one on the alert
attending to her whims. When she had been there a month her brother
came to see her. He thought she had better go on farther south--I
think she had consumption, the sort of wasting away without a cough.
While we were making preparations she was taken down to her bed. Mr.
Personette had to return here on urgent business matters. Four weeks
later she died. So he came back and there was the burial and all----"
Miss Alwood paused and a flush with an amused expression passed over
her face.
"And so you were released from bondage," suggested Miss Holmes; and
she, somehow, smiled, too.
"And accepted another. Mr. Personette, being a widower, made me an
offer of marriage. We are to be a not very far-away neighbor, as he
owns a house on Mason Street, and is really well-to-do, as we say at
home. There is a son of seventeen, a daughter two years younger, and
one of twelve. I went to hunt you up, but found the place deserted,
then looked up Miss Gaines and have been spending a week over wedding
gowns, though it is to be just a quiet marriage in church. He has had
housekeepers that were unsatisfactory, indeed, he was afraid the last
one would marry him out of hand," and this time she did laugh
heartily. "So you see I have made my fortune the first of the trio."
"Let me congratulate you on your good fortune. I suppose it _is_
that."
"Why, yes, as far as one can see. I'm not a romantic young girl, and
he is just forty, has made one fortune and lost it, and now is--well,
he spends money as if there would be no end to it. Do you remember the
old story of the bees that were taken to a place where the flowers
bloomed all the year round, and ceased laying up honey? That seems the
way with so many here. There were people who lost everything in the
great fire and in no time were on their feet again. It is in the air,
I think, or perhaps the fusion of so many people from everywhere. And
now Mr. Personette is prospering, and I am to share the prosperity and
have a home of my own, and like the bees, I'm not going to worry about
the future. You see I am already a recreant Yankee. Where is your
little girl?"
The little girl had been sitting on the window ledge of the next room,
and remembering the long journey round the Horn, often cheered by the
brightness of Miss Alwood. She sprang down now and came forward.
"What a little dot she keeps! Laverne, I am going to be your neighbor,
and I am to have a little girl who will be a playmate for you. I can't
answer about the other, girls begin to put on airs so soon. Do you go
to school?"
"No, I have taught her thus far. But it is rather lonely for a child.
There was no one about where we lived, but some distance below a
Spanish family which hardly knew whether to affiliate or not."
"They are very brilliant farther down the coast. Monterey is the place
to see them in their glory. I wish we had gone there, but Miss
Personette hated the strumming of a guitar and the click-clack of the
language, as she termed it. And now, can't you leave household cares
and come for a drive?"
"I have a splendid pony," said Laverne.
"Why, that is quite delightful. But you will not disdain my carriage,
I hope."
Miss Holmes rather hesitated, but Miss Alwood overruled all the
objections. And she remembered that Mr. Chadsey said they need not
expect him home to dinner. Now that he was so much nearer he came
back to an old-fashioned love for a midday dinner.
First they went down to Mason Street. There was quite a fine finished
block of houses, detached, with gardens on both sides. Down below it
was unfinished but the street had been straightened, the low places
were being filled up, the hillocks levelled.
"Oh," Miss Holmes began, with a depth of feeling that touched her
friend, "you can't think how glad I am this has happened to you. We
have had some hard things in our lives, and now we have really gone
into a new world."
"And I wish you the same good luck. I did not quite like your being
buried down in that out-of-the-way place."
"There were so few houses to be had when we came."
"Yes; there were people living in tents. There are a few of them now
on the outskirts. And building is going on everywhere. Oh, what do you
suppose it will be in twenty years?"
That really brought a stretch to the imagination and they looked
blankly at each other.
Improvements were going on everywhere with a rush startling to these
New England women.
There were new stores opened in the past two months. They passed Russ
Garden, one of the public places near the Mission Road, devoted to
amusements of various kinds, and thronged on Saturday afternoons. Down
by the Plaza the "steam paddys" were levelling the numerous sand hills
that lay between that and Happy Valley. Even the burned district of
less than a year ago was rising rapidly from its ashes.
"I've never had quite such a fine view of the town," Miss Holmes said.
"Heretofore we have only taken it in parts. What it will be when
finished----"
"Only New England cities get finished. I think I have heard of some
places that were fenced in and whitewashed, but they must have been
mere country towns," declared Miss Alwood laughingly.
They made a call on Miss Gaines, who now had a workroom full of girls
and piles of dazzling material. Nothing was too rich or too expensive
for these California dames, whose husbands made fortunes in a month or
cleared thousands of dollars in a day. Those early years were an
Arabian Nights' tale.
The three friends had a genial time together, and then Miss Holmes and
the little girl were set down at their own door. She was very quiet.
"What are you thinking of?" Miss Holmes asked at length.
"Of the little girl Miss Alwood is to have, and whether I shall like
her. Of course, she will not be like the Estenegas. And it seems queer
to have a new mother who isn't a real mother."
"You will understand that better by and by."
Laverne nodded. She could never have a new mother. She wondered a
little about her father. Uncle Jason never spoke of him. Of course he
was dead also.
Mrs. Dawson was very anxious to give Miss Alwood a wedding feast, and
indeed was fain to have her married in the parlor, but she preferred
the church. Mr. Personette was well known, and the church was
crowded. The two daughters walked in front and strewed flowers in
their path, there were congratulations and good wishes, and a luncheon
at the Dawson House, when the new husband and wife took a short
journey, and ended the festivities by a reception at their own home.
Laverne thought it was very fine to have a new white frock,
lace-trimmed, and a knot of blue ribbons on one shoulder, with long
streamers. Isabel Personette was tall of her age, and quite a young
lady, rather pretty. Olive had large, dark eyes, and shining chestnut
hair, was round, plump, and merry-looking.
"Our new mother has been telling us about you," she began, grasping
Laverne's hand. "And that you came from Maine with her. What a long,
long journey. Weren't you awfully afraid? I looked up Maine on the
map. But you had to go round the Horn. What did it look like?"
"It's a cape, you know."
"But--I supposed there was something," in a surprised tone. "Perhaps
they blew a horn?"
"They didn't do anything as I remember," and Laverne smiled a little.
"I've never been farther than Monterey. But father went up to British
Columbia once. It is desperately cold up there. And there is a Russian
country where it is colder still. And you have snows in Maine."
"Oh, dreadful snows that do not go off all winter, and it seems so
queer not to have any here. It was such fun to snowball and have
sled-rides and build snowhouses."
"You didn't live in them?" in surprise.
"Oh, no! But sometimes we brought in dry hemlock branches and brush,
and had a fire. It looks so pretty."
"Didn't it melt the house?"
"Oh, yes, a little. But you see it froze again."
"Which do you like best--there or here?"
"Oh, this is the most beautiful, for there are so many flowers and
lovely places. And--I think I like the pleasant weather best."
"How many cousins have you?"
"None," answered Laverne rather regretfully.
"Oh, isn't that queer? I have four over to Oaklands. And two in
London. And one of father's sisters married a Mexican, and lives way
down to Santa Barbara. They have ever so many children with queer
names. Aunt Amy died a little while ago, and as she hadn't any
children, she left some money to us and the Oakland cousins. But not
to have any----"
Olive Personette looked very sympathetic. Presently she said, "How
many little girls do you know?"
"Only three, and they are Spanish. There were none where we lived
before. It was a kind of wild place. I like this ever so much better."
"Did you love them?"
Laverne considered, while her eyes wandered off into space.
"I think I didn't really _love_ them. I liked them. They came up to
learn English, and Miss Holmes and I studied Spanish. And we played
about. They had a queer old house and a lovely garden, with fruit and
flowers, and tame birds, and everything. And I had a squirrel I tamed.
We brought him up here, and I kept him two weeks in a little pen, but
when I let him out he ran away."
"I'll tell you what I'll do. We'll make believe to ourselves that we
are cousins. Mother said she hoped I would like you a good deal. You
see, Isabel begins to go with big girls, and they just push you out
when they tell secrets, and they have so many to tell. Do you know any
secrets?"
Laverne shook her head gravely.
"But sometimes you do bad things and you don't want to tell anybody."
"Why, I tell Uncle Jason everything. And----"
Did she ever do anything very bad? She didn't always study when Miss
Holmes told her to, and she sometimes tore her frocks scrambling up or
down the hills. She had been brought up to be truthful and obedient,
and now these traits were part of her nature.
"Well, it's this way--you must not tell your uncle the things I tell
you, and you must find something to tell me--when Miss Holmes is cross
to you."
"But she isn't ever cross."
"Oh, yes, everybody has a cross streak in her, or him. I'm cross
often. And I do hope our new mother won't scold. Father said she was
so good to Aunt Amy, and Aunt Amy was dreadful at times. Then the Mrs.
Barr we had for housekeeper was just awful. She said naughty words,
too, like the men. No one is good always. You can't be. And when I get
in a taking I'm a terror at school. Miss Carson once wrote a note to
father, but I begged so she tore it up. I wanted a watch for Christmas
and I was afraid he would not give it to me if he knew. That was a
secret I've kept until now, but he gave me the watch. I let it fall
and it had to go away to be repaired. And I have three rings. See, are
they not pretty? That garnet is getting tight. I'll have to give it
away," and she laughed.
Her new mother came around to them.
"Are you making friends?" she asked. "That is right. Laverne, are you
having a nice time? Come and see the dancing."
They were waltzing up and down the spacious hall. There had been
dancing on shipboard among the men, but this was something that
fascinated the little girl. The beautiful dresses and sparkling
jewels, the delicate laces that floated like clouds, and among the men
were two or three young Spaniards. One of them wore a beautiful
fringed sash about his waist.
"Do you go to dancing school?
"No," replied Laverne.
"But you will. I began last winter. Isabel dances. See, some one has
taken her out. Oh, dear, I wish I could grow up in a night, just three
years. Wouldn't it be funny to have it happen in your sleep?"
Jason Chadsey had been looking about for his little girl. He had
insisted at first that he could not come, that he was too old, and
such a plain fellow, that he would look queer among the fine people.
But Mrs. Personette had written him a special invitation, and he had
compromised with Miss Holmes by promising to come for them. He knew
Mr. Personette a little in a business way, and he was really
gratified at Miss Alwood's good fortune. So he had gone to the
tailor's and treated himself to a new suit of clothes, and looked
fully five years younger.
Laverne stared at him a moment, then a lovely smile illumined her face
as she slipped her hand in his and rather bashfully introduced her new
friend.
"I have been making the acquaintance of your brother and your sister,"
he said. "I hope you and my little girl will be friends."
"Oh, we have promised to," declared Olive. "I am coming to see her
pony, and I am very glad to know her."
He nodded and escorted the children about, or rather followed Olive,
who gracefully made herself mistress of the occasion and chatted with
an ease that amused him. But it was getting late, and as he had
performed his round of duties, he proposed now that they should return
home. Olive kissed her new friend with much fervor.
"Parties are just splendid," Laverne said, as she danced alongside of
Uncle Jason. "Can't you have a party unless you are married?"
"Oh, yes, there are birthday parties and Christmas parties and parties
just for fun."
"But you have to know a good many people, don't you?"
"I think I have seen three or four little girls have a party."
"I know four now."
"And perhaps by Christmas you will know four more," returned Uncle
Jason.
She was very tired and sleepy when she reached home, and they all
retired. And it so happened she slept late the next morning and had
her breakfast alone. Pablo had found it very lonely without them and
had decided to accept Mr. Chadsey's offer. So she ran out now to say
good-morning to him and Pelajo.
Something scampered along at her feet, and then made a sudden dash
among the vines. Two bright eyes peeped out and there was a peculiar
little chatter.
"Why, if it isn't Snippy," she cried. "Snip, Snip!" and she knelt down
in the gravelly path. "Snip!"
There was a sudden rush, and the squirrel ran up her arm, across her
shoulders, and fairly nestled in the little curve below her ear. And
then he began to chatter as if he was telling over his journey and his
tribulations and expressing his joy. Surely no squirrel was ever more
eloquent to his mate in love-making time. Laverne laughed until the
tears came into her eyes, and she had a vague suspicion that she was
crying as well, but it was for very joy.
Snippy wriggled out of the warm embrace presently and questioned her
with his bright beady eyes, as if the voice might have led him into a
mistake. But no, this was his little mistress sure enough.
She gathered him up and ran into the kitchen where Miss Holmes was
making a pie.
"Oh," she cried, "Snippy has come back, my dear, darling Snippy."
He had come by his name in a rather unexpected fashion. When Laverne
first had him tame enough to come into the house, throw his beautiful
bushy tail up his back, and let the feathery end droop over his ears
like a bit of Spanish lace, a trick of the Señoras, and eat a fragment
of cracker, Miss Holmes said one day, "He looks so pert and snippy one
has to smile at his daintiness."
They had tried on several names that did not seem to fit. It was easy
enough to get something for a dog or a horse.
"Oh, that will just do, Snippy," and Laverne danced around in delight.
"Then we can call him Snip when we are in a hurry--he is such a dear
little dot, too. His tail is as big as his body; Snippy, Snippy!"
Perhaps there was something in the sound that attracted him, for he
glanced up out of brightest eyes and winked as if he approved it.
He did soon come to know his name. Perhaps it was because it became
connected with some tidbit, for when the little girl called him she
always had a dainty morsel for him.
He glanced about the room now, and then thrust his head under
Laverne's arm. Miss Holmes spoke and he peered out. Yes, he knew that
voice surely, but the place was strange.
"Oh, Snippy, you can't imagine how glad I am to have you. I've been
homesick for you, though I like this place better, and we're nearer
the grand ocean, and can look over into the Golden Gate, and golden it
is in the sunset. Oh, why did you run away?"
Snippy said something in his own language and struggled to get free.
She let him run down her skirt and leap to the floor. He glanced round
with sharp, inquiring eyes, then ran to one corner where, in the old
place, he used to find nuts and perhaps a crust. Oh, it wasn't the
same place. He fairly scolded, up went his tail, and he scampered out
of the door. Laverne ran, calling him. Over the path, the rockery
Uncle Jason had built for her, plunging into the great ferns that grew
as high as her head, and shook off an odorous fragrance at being
disturbed.
"Oh, Snippy! Snippy!" in a beseeching tone.
The little girl sat down on a stone and cried. Sorrow had followed so
on the heels of delight. Bruno came and put his nose in her hand and
looked comfort out of great wistful eyes.
Miss Holmes came out presently.
"I think he will come back," she said hopefully. "You see he found the
way once and he can again. And now come in and study a lesson. There
is nothing like work to lighten sorrow."
"If he only would come back! Bruno, if you see him, come and tell me
at once."
Bruno nodded sagaciously.