A TASTE OF GAYETY
May was beautiful enough to make the heart leap for joy. Rose-bushes
sent up spikes of pink and blood-red blossoms or clambered over
hillocks, lilies stood up among the ferns and bushes, and the poppies
that grew everywhere seemed to dance with joy, as they flung out their
silken leaves in a dazzle, wooed by the wind. Bees were busy enough
with their bustle and humming, birds were singing everywhere.
Squirrels and rabbits scudded about, little harmless lizards came out
and sunned themselves on the stones, and great flying iridescent bugs
that shot across the air with golden and green rays. Oh, how
enchanting it all was. It stirred the little girl with unutterable
thoughts.
"Laverne," Miss Holmes called. Oh, was it lesson time!
"Come, dear, Mrs. Personette has the carriage here, and we are going
to take a look at the great German Mayday festival. Come quick, and
slip in another frock."
For what with building dams for waterfalls, making paths and rockeries
and flower beds, the little girl was not always in company trim.
"Oh, Uncle Jason was talking about that, and he was so sorry he could
not get away, but some vessels were coming in. Oh, yes, I'll hurry."
There were baths and sundry conveniences in many of the houses in this
new city. Perhaps no place in the world had ever worked such marvels
in five years. But Jason Chadsey had not come to luxuries yet.
However, the little girl did very well without them. She washed and
dressed in a trice.
Mrs. Personette and Olive were in the big carriage. Isabel and Howard
had taken the buggy. She greeted them cordially. Olive made room for
Laverne, or rather beckoned her to her own seat.
The Germans were holding a grand festival at Russ's Garden. There was
a big flag flying from the great marquee, and numerous lesser ones.
There were the park of shade trees, the houses of refreshment, the
arches wreathed with flowers, and German flags vying with the Stars
and Stripes. Gay beds of flowers were interspersed that lent richest
coloring. The broad driveway was thronged with carriages already, but
none were allowed inside.
The _Turner Gesang Verein_ was really the leader of the festivities.
The members were dressed in brown linen, loose and baggy, and marched
from their headquarters with banners flying and the band playing
inspiriting airs from Vaterland. And when they all assembled before
the marquee, "_Das Deutsche Vaterland_" swelled out on the balmy air
in a most rapturous manner. They were in their home atmosphere again,
they hardly remembered the land giving them shelter. The grand
choruses went up in a shout. The instruments seemed fairly to beat
waves of music on the air.
It appeared, indeed, as if all the Germans in the city had gathered
there, and even at this time there were about two thousand. And then
the games began. They leaped and balanced, they performed various
athletic feats, the victor being crowned with shouts, as well as
winning a prize. They danced, the boys and men with each other, many
of them in native garments of the provinces from which they had
emigrated, and some were amusing in motley array.
Outside there were booths with tables for refreshments, where wives
and children congregated, and the place was patrolled by policemen to
keep roughs away. The onlookers drove around or were on horseback;
among them were the old Californians in leggings, sash, and sombrero,
and a few Spaniards, who looked on haughtily at these people who were
fast superseding the old stock.
There were not many places of amusement really proper for women and
children of the better class. The circus had been the pioneer
entertainment, then the theatre. Even at a concert of vocal music
given by the favorite, Stephen C. Massett, where front seats were
reserved for ladies, only four were present. A neat little theatre had
been destroyed by fire; the Jenny Lind had shared the same fate, until
a Mr. Maguire erected a large stone theatre destined for first-class
amusements and that had been taken for the city hall. But the year
before Mr. and Mrs. Baker, fine actors, had succeeded in establishing
a new era in the Californian drama, and given it a style and
excellence, and catered to the best class of people, who had begun to
give tone to society.
Laverne hardly heeded Olive's chatter, she was so interested in the
gay scene. There had never been anything like it to her. And the music
stirred her wonderfully. They drove slowly round and round, watched
the athletes and held their breath at some of the daring feats.
"Oh, you should hear Howard talk of the circus performers and what
they do," exclaimed Olive. "There's a flying leap when a man comes
over the head of the audience, and catches a big hoop on the stage,
and hangs suspended while the audience applauds, and a woman that
rides on two horses, changing about, and sometimes stands up. She's a
foreigner of some sort."
"I should think they would be afraid;" and Laverne shuddered.
"Oh, no; they're trained, you see. And the races are splendid. We can
go to them. And they used to have bull-baits at the Mission, but they
don't allow it now."
"Bull-baits?" echoed Laverne.
"Oh, bull-fights," laughed Olive. "That's real Spanish, you know. Why,
it seems all right to them, of course. And there are dog-fights and
cock-fights here--I don't see much difference, only the bulls are
bigger and stronger."
Then a Turk halted at the carriage which had been stopped in the
press. He had a great clapper, which made a hideous noise, and a voice
that went through your ears. A tray was suspended from a leathern
strap that passed around his neck. He wore a gay fez, and a jacket
embroidered with gold thread much tarnished, and full Turkish trousers
of red silk so soiled one could hardly tell the color. His swarthy
skin and long, waxed mustache gave him a fierce look.
"Oh, mother, get some candy," cried Olive, "I'm just dying for some."
Fortunately it was done up in a kind of soft Chinese paper, and so
kept from the dust. Then in a jar he had some curious shredded stuff
that looked like creamy ravellings.
"Oh, we will drive around and get some at Winn's," said her mother.
"Oh, Laverne, don't you want some real Turkish candy?"
Laverne looked undecided.
"Oh, do, do," pleaded Olive, and Mrs. Personette yielded.
The ravelly stuff was very funny and melted in your mouth, and the
candy seemed saturated with all flavors.
"Of course, Winn's is much better," declared Olive, with an air. "Oh,
mother, can't we go to Winn's and have some lunch!"
"I've been considering that," returned her mother.
The two friends had so much to talk about that the children's chatter
had not really reached them. Old times and beliefs that seemed of some
bygone century rather than a decade or two, so utterly had this
Western coast outgrown them.
"Have you seen Howard anywhere?" asked Mrs. Personette.
"No," returned Olive. Then in a lower tone--"They're off, having a
good time, I know. Let Isabel alone for that; mother needn't think
she'll know everything," and the girl laughed.
They drove around once more. Now a good many were seated at the
refreshment tables, smoking, drinking beer, and laughing over jokes of
the old fatherland. Of course, before night they would be rather
uproarious. They had seen the best part of the celebration.
"I do wish we could find the children," said Mrs. Personette. "We
might have lunch together."
At Washington and Montgomery Streets was the new establishment of Mr.
Winn, who had been twice burned out and had not lost his courage. It
seemed the fate of nearly all of the old settlers, and would have
ruined and discouraged a community with less pluck. For, after all,
while there were no end of toughs and roughs and adventurers, there
was still some of the best blood of the Eastern cities, full of
knowledge and perseverance.
Winn's was a large refectory of the highest order. It was furnished in
the most elegant and tasteful manner, and the service was admirable.
Indeed, it had come to be quite a calling place for the real society
people, where they could meet a friend and sit over their tea or
coffee and exchange the news of the day, which meant more really than
in any other city. For every twenty-four hours something stirring was
happening. Every fortnight now a steamship came in. New people, new
goods, letters from the States, messages to this one and that from
friends thousands of miles away.
The large rooms were connected by arches with costly draperies. Tables
here and there for guests, sofas, easy-chairs, a stand for flowers,
the papers of the day and magazines that had to be old before they
reached these Western readers. Silks and satins rustled, skirts were
beginning to be voluminous, bonnets had wreaths of flowers under the
brim, and it was the day of shawls, India, cashmere, and lace. Now and
then a dark-eyed Señorita wore hers in some graceful folds that made a
point over the curls on her forehead. But women mostly had their hair
banded Madonna-wise that gave some faces a very serene and placid
look. Long ringlets were another style. Demi-trains were also in
vogue, and at Winn's at luncheon time, it had the appearance of a
fashionable reception. Children wore stiffly starched skirts and gypsy
hats with wreaths of flowers. Laverne's were forget-me-nots, with
streamers of blue ribbon, and her soft light hair was braided in two
tails, tied with a blue ribbon about halfway, the rest floating loose.
They had a dainty luncheon. Mrs. Personette received nods from this
one and that one, for already she was becoming quite well known.
"Oh," she said presently, "do you know the school children are to have
their walk on Monday, a Mayday walk, quite an institution, I believe.
And Laverne ought to go to school, do you not think so? And this is to
be quite an event. She must see it, and you as well."
"Alice Payne is to be Queen of the May, and seven maids of honor from
the different schools," said Olive. "Why, I could take Laverne with
me. You'd have to wear your white frock, that's all."
Laverne glanced up eagerly, with a dainty flush. Could she really take
part in it?
It was true Jason Chadsey had not been very anxious to push his
little girl forward. They had lived too far from schools before, and
she was too much of a stranger to go around alone.
"It will be just splendid! And you will see so many girls. Of course,
we have lived here a long while and know almost everybody."
"Of all the thousands," appended her mother, rather humorously. "Then
you must be a 'Forty-niner.'"
Olive colored. "We're older than that," she answered, with some pride.
"Father is a real Californian."
"And you children will belong to the old aristocracy when birth begins
to count. I suppose that will come in presently."
"It always does," returned Miss Holmes. "Think of the pride of Boston
over her early immigrants."
They drove around the garden and then took the two guests home. Miss
Holmes expressed her pleasure warmly.
"Oh," laughed Mrs. Personette, "when we were on our long journey,
coming to a strange land, who could have imagined that in so short a
time I should be riding round in my carriage! And I seemed to have no
special gift or attraction. Truly it is a Golden State."
Laverne had a great deal to tell Uncle Jason. She was so bright and
happy, and had seen so much. And then there was the procession for
Monday. Could she go?
Certainly, it was not possible to deny the eager, appealing face and
pleading voice.
After supper, when she was in bed and Uncle Jason reading his papers,
Miss Holmes broached the subject of school.
The first schools, as happens in most new places, were private
enterprises. The earliest of all had been among the old residents
before the great influx, and in 1847 the old plain little schoolhouse
was erected on Portsmouth Square. It was used for many purposes.
Religious bodies held their first meetings here, and the early public
amusements were given, even political and benevolent assemblies. It
was dignified as a Court House under Judge Almond, and at length
turned into a station house until it went the way of transitory
things. To this effort for education succeeded a real public school,
with a board of trustees of prominent men, there being sixty children
of school age in a population of a little over eight hundred,
including Indians. Then suddenly the gold fever swept the town like
wildfire, the public-school project was dropped, and the Rev. Albert
Williams collected twenty-five pupils into a pay-school. In the spring
of 1850, Mr. and Mrs. Pelton, who had succeeded the clergyman, and
gathered in a large number of pupils, applied to the city for adequate
recompense, and it was virtually made a public school. In January, a
beautiful lot at Spring Valley, on the Presidio Road, was purchased,
and a school was built in a delightful road of evergreens.
Soon after this the city started again and in time had seven schools,
though several private schools were in a very flourishing condition.
But many children were sent East to finishing academies, or to
Monterey and other Southern towns to convent schools. Still the cause
of education began to demand more attention, as the necessity for
good citizenship became more strenuous.
Uncle Jason glanced up from his paper when Miss Holmes spoke of the
school.
"Not that I find it at all troublesome to teach her, and she is the
most tractable child I ever saw. Then she is so eager to get to the
very foundation of things. Why, you would hardly believe how much she
knows about botany. I found an old book--but the flowers here are so
different. And I really love to teach now that I am well and strong. I
could almost go in school again."
"Oh, don't think of such a thing. We couldn't do without you," he
exclaimed earnestly. "But you think--a school----" and he paused, his
eyes fixed on the floor as if he was ruminating.
"Laverne needs the companionship of children, comparing thoughts with
them, playing, the harmless rivalry of studying together. When it
comes to that, I could have a small school. You see she will be
growing older all the time."
"Frankly, which would be best? You are more capable of deciding, since
you have had a wider experience in this matter."
"Oh, the school. You see she must take a place with other people. She
has no relatives, and friends must stand in their stead."
He turned back to his paper, but he was not reading. The little girl
was all his. He had a feeling when they left Maine that nothing and no
one should come between them. Every thought, every desire should
cluster about her. He would make a fortune for her. His first plan in
going to California was to start to the gold fields for the sake of
adventures. He would cut loose from all old recollections. He would
leave Laverne Westbury a comfortable and satisfied wife and mother. He
had no bitterness against his rival now. It had all been so different.
Many a night on shipboard he lived over those few sad weeks and hugged
to his heart the consolation that she had loved him, and that fate had
been cruel to both. And then, conscious of the finer strain of
fatherhood that had so long lain fallow in his soul, the child slipped
into the place, and aims were changed for him. There would be enough
for him to do in the new town where everything was needed, and he
could turn his hand to almost anything. But he must keep to her, she
was the apple of his eye, and he would go groping in sorrowful
darkness without her.
He had a curious feeling at first that he must hide her away lest her
father should start up from somewhere and claim her, and was glad to
light on that out-of-the-way place. The long voyage had been like
living in the same village with these people. The New England
reticence of Miss Holmes appealed to him in a peculiar manner, he was
reticent himself. Then the child took the greatest fancy to her. She
was rather timid about this new world while the others were ready for
adventures. And when he offered her a home for the care of the child
she was very willing to accept it for the present. Her belief was that
when she was rested and in her usual health she should teach school
again.
Her two friends had teased her a little about finding a possible
lover in Jason Chadsey. She had the fine feminine delicacy that shrank
from the faintest suspicion of putting herself in the way of such a
possibility. He was a sturdy, upright, plain-spoken fellow, not at all
her ideal, and she still had the romance of girlhood. She came to know
presently by her womanly intuition that marriage had no place in his
thoughts, that were centred in the little girl. Perhaps, her mother
was his only sister, a deserted wife, she gathered from childish
prattle of Laverne's. She knew so little about her past. Uncle Jason
had come when they were in great want, and her mother had died. And
now, Jason Chadsey knew it would be best for this idea to gain
credence. He would always be her uncle.
But he had some duties toward her. She could not always remain a
child, a plaything. That was the sorrow of it. There must be a rich,
delightful life before her. She must have the joys her mother had
missed, the prosperity that had not come to her.
He looked up from the paper presently.
"About the school," he began. "Yes, I have been considering it. And
you will have quite enough to do to keep the house and have the
oversight of her; I will make it an object for you to stay. We get
along comfortably together, though sometimes I feel I am a queer
unsocial Dick, much occupied now with business. But it is all for her.
She is the only thing out of a life that has been all ups and downs,
but, please God, there'll be some clear sailing now. I like San
Francisco. I like the rush and bustle and newness, the effort for a
finer civilization that has strength and purpose in it. Heaven knows
there is enough of the other sort, but the dross does get sifted out
and the gold is left. It will be so here, and these earnest men ten
years hence will be proud of the city they are rearing."
He glanced at her steadily, forgetting he had wandered from the main
question.
"You will not leave us----"
"I? Oh, no;" yet she colored a little.
"There will be enough to do if the child does go to school. And you
can walk down for her in the afternoon, wherever it is, and have
little outings. I am glad you are so fond of her, and she loves you.
She isn't the kind to strew her love broadcast."
"Yes, I am very fond of her," was the reply.