THE DREAM AND THE REALITY.
Thus ended Jessica Trent’s first year at school. It was the
forerunner of others so like it that no record is needed. There were
summer vacation trips in various directions, visits to the homes of
schoolmates, and one year--the third of her absence from Sobrante--was
spent in Europe.
The intimacy with Aubrey and Natalie begun on her entrance to the
Adelphi, continued through all their mutual course and at last the time
came when they, too, were to be graduated; strangely enough, Aubrey
with first honors and our heroine with none. She wrote home:--
“DEAR MOTHER:
“You’re going to be dreadfully disappointed in me, I know, and I
wish, I wish I could make it otherwise. But I can’t. I think all that
feverish energy of the first year was but a ‘spurt,’ as rowers say.
It came from shame. But as soon as I had picked up enough to keep
even with the girls of my own age I couldn’t tear ahead and climb any
more of that ‘bean-stalk’ dear Miss Montaigne used to talk about.
Poor thing! She feels a deal worse about my stupidity than I do. She
thought she had found a genius to instruct when she first took hold
of my brains, but she made a mistake.
“I can sing--a little. I can fiddle, or violin, enough to make it
pleasant for the ‘boys’ when I get home. I can sew a seam and I’ve
never forgotten Aunt Sally’s parting injunction to ‘keep my stockings
mended.’ I can set a table, I can entertain a guest, I’ve been
through the cooking class and can do an omelet or a Welsh rarebit to
a turn. I’ve studied banking and economy till I think, I hope, I can
take care of a good deal of your business; or, at least, can see that
nobody carries it on badly.
“I can trim a bonnet, I can make a gown, and I can wash fine laces.
Aubrey says she doesn’t see what Madame’s pupils need of such
‘accomplishments,’ but Madame, who is wise, says one never can tell
what one may or may not need to know. Anyway, it was her place to
give us an all around education and she’s done her best for us.
“I can speak French and German well enough to act as interpreter
on our trip abroad, and I’ve hammered enough Latin into my head to
understand Botany and a bit of mineralogy. But I don’t yet see how
long it would take Mr. A, working so many hours a day to be as smart
as Mr. B, working some other time. Arithmetic isn’t my strong point.
“In brief, dearest mother, you’ll find your girl is just a plain,
home-loving, people-loving, glad-to-be-alive-and-a-link-in-the-chain
sort of creature; and thus forewarned you’re not to be so greatly,
greatly disappointed, if you please. I’m not a ‘star,’ as you were;
not even that bottom-of-the-class-one I sometimes aspired to be.
“Your room is all ready. You are to stay right here at the Adelphi
while you are in town. Madame, my second mother, will hear of no
other arrangement; and, dear, she has promised she will accept your
invitation to go home with us to Sobrante and stay all summer.
“Last evening we went to a sort of farewell reception at the ‘Adelphi
Home for Children,’ our blessed sanctuary for the little ones over
on Avenue A. As I looked at that great building, with all its fine
appointments, its comfort and its hosts of happy babies, I got--as I
used to say when I was a baby myself--‘all chokey up.’ And I sighted
backward along the ‘chain’ to that far-away afternoon when Buster
laid its corner stone, so to speak. Knocking down one little maid
from Avenue A was the real beginning of things.
“You’ll be in time for Sophy’s graduation, too. She is so strong
and well now, and such an ideal nurse. They’re going to miss her
dreadfully at St. Luke’s which has been her home so long. The
Superintendent told me there was nobody who could manage a fractious
patient with the skill and tenderness of our dear Sophy. She’s the
real honor girl of our family. It seems to me there isn’t anything
in the realm of nursing that she hasn’t conquered. The head surgeon
says she could even perform one of those fearful ‘operations’ if
necessary, though I hope it never will be.
“You should see the darling’s pride in her new, white linen uniforms.
All her old blue gingham, ‘probationer’ ones she is leaving for any
other girl who wants to be a nurse and hasn’t money for her clothes.
You’d think it was bridal finery to see Sophy handle those garments:
see her fondle the spotless aprons and dainty caps; and hear her
murmur: ‘At last, at last! I am authorized and free to do for others
what has been done for me!’ She looks so pretty, so earnest, so
noble, that I’m sure some of our ‘boys’ will want to break a bone or
two just to have her attend them.
“I’ve paid my last visit, too, to Granny Briggs in her apartment. She
is as happy as Sophy and as proud, but far more weighed down with
the cares of life. ‘What will I do with this here painted plate,
what Miss Montaigne first et Indian puddin’ off?’ ‘Them granite pots
’t Ephraim Marsh bought, and don’t need scourin’ all the time, I
certain can’t leave them behind to be thrown into a rubbish heap!’
Ephraim sits and chuckles and says that he too, ‘at last, is on the
road to freedom. Sophia Badger that was has badgered the life out of
him ’cause he’s so forgetful and will eat stuff no man of his age
ought to, though it’s never hurt him a mite. Fire the whole mess of
trash into the garbage box, Sophia, and let the poor ash-man get the
benefit of ’em. We don’t need no New York truck on our ranch, Sophia.
We’re going home to Sobrante.’
“The dear old fellow is as happy as a child; but, mother darling,
there’s a lump in my throat every time I hear him say that sweet word
‘home.’ He _is_ going. He _must_ hold out till he gets there and
maybe, oh! maybe, the ‘superfine air of Californy, where folks live
to be a hundred and fifteen years old, some of ’em,’ may put that
new life into his veins that he anticipates. But there are moments
when my eyes fill looking on his blessed, honest, rugged face and I
see how worn and thin it is. ‘Sophia Badger’ sees the change in him,
as well. She has never said so and I would not ask her if she did. I
couldn’t bear to hear my own fear put into words. She merely cossets
him and feeds him and scolds him more than ever; yet does it all with
that maternal smile that makes my heart ache. The two poor, dear old
creatures! Who still talk of their childhood ‘scrapes’ in ‘Cawnco’d’
as if it were but yesterday. Ephraim has sent up-river for Buster and
that happy broncho is also ready for his homeward trip.
“Altogether, we shall be, _must_ be a merry, merry party; and I can
hardly realize that I have come to a time when I am writing my very
last letter to you. Before another one could reach you we shall be
together, face to face.
“Till then, and hoping you are duly prepared for the girl you haven’t
seen in five long years--just because you thought it wiser and better
for me that I should mature outside the family garden--I bring this
long one to a close.
“Your daughter,
“JESSICA.”
Commencements are much alike. This one that witnessed Jessica Trent’s
graduation, might have been any other of her whole school course,
so far as outward appearances went. There were the same artistic
decorations, the same superabundance of flowers, the same well-spread
tables. There was almost the same old crowd of eager spectators so
like were these to the gatherings gone before.
But there was always, as there always will be, a great difference to
the maidens most concerned.
To Jessica’s vast astonishment, she had been chosen valedictorian of
her class; and with a fine ambition that here, at least, she might make
her mother proud, she had worked night and day on her essay and had
brought it to what even Madame pronounced a fine and graceful climax.
Jessie had a gift of speech and she had a gift of pen; but-- Let us not
forecast!
Almost the same Faculty occupied the platform. Almost the same teachers
sat beside the stately Madame; and almost the same group of white-clad
maidens waited with fluttering hearts for their bit of sheepskin which
the President would soon present them.
Mrs. Trent was there, grown scarcely old in these past years, because
of the greater ease and luxury of her life. Madam Dalrymple, in
shimmering silk and coiffure quite as bewildering as when her young
“second cousin twice removed” had first beheld her. She had made the
long trans-continental journey--“I left my rheumatism behind me in
that dry air of California”--to witness a scene which would bring back
that one when Gabriella, beloved of her heart, had also graduated. She
even “Poohs!” at that mother’s disappointment in that Jessica is not a
world-famous scholar. “Why, what do you want, Gabriella? The child is
a gentlewoman--one glance shows it--and the only ‘career’ to which she
need aspire is to make our home a real home, back there at Sobrante.
Leave the scholarship to Ned. That boy has reached the necktie stage
of his existence and begins to think about his hair and finger nails.
He has brains enough, else he’d never have been so mischievous. Don’t
worry because Jessica isn’t a mannish woman, but be content. For my
part, I never saw a more beautiful, wholly satisfactory girl. You
couldn’t hold a candle to her even in your earliest youth; and now
you see how good my judgment was. If I hadn’t fairly nagged you into
sending her to me you’d never have seen such a picture as that yon,”
finished the delighted dame, nodding her white pompadour stage-ward.
Ephraim was there, Mrs. Briggs and Sophy beside him; all in that
same front row with Mrs. Dalrymple and Gabriella; also a young lad
who is taking his first peep at life outside his home and whom the
valedictorian can scarcely believe is the scampish little “tacker” she
remembers, even Ned.
“Now, Jessie. Do us credit,” whispers Miss Montaigne, as the fateful
moment arrives and the girl steps forward to repeat the speech she has
so carefully memorised. She is a “dream of beauty,” as Madam Dalrymple
has declared. Her movements are graceful and easy. She wears her
exquisite graduation gown as unconsciously as if it were her ordinary
school frock, and that Madame has, also, said is to be a mark of
gentlehood. “Such people are clothed--they never wear their clothes.”
Jessica bows, very prettily, very low. She opens her lips and a word or
two issues thence. Then, most unfortunately, she lifts her eyes toward
a group of other girls, with whom she has joyed and sorrowed during
the close intimacy of these past years and--disaster!
Her eyes fill, her face flushes, pales, is covered by her slim white
hands--and Jessica Trent has ignominiously broken down. A fierce sob
escapes her--is taken up and echoed by one, a half-dozen, all of
those white throats of her beloved mates, and they are all weeping in
concert. Even some of the audience, moved by a profound sympathy, shed
a few tears in concert; and--Commencement is over!
“Well, there generally is some unusual happening to mark the close of
our year together, but we’ve never had just this sort of thing before;
and it’s all because we never before graduated a girl whose whole
nature was just _love_!” said poor Miss Montaigne, whose own heart was
heavy at this parting.
* * * * *
Sobrante?
Yes, at last. The special or private car, also the “Sobrante,” is
slowly approaching the terminal of the railway--the Sobrante mines. It
is also an observation car and its open spaces are crowded with such
eager people as never before journeyed over that route. Old faces,
young faces, but never a sad nor lonely face among them; and happiest
of all is Jessica Trent’s.
With trembling lips she questions Ninian Sharp as she has used to do in
the days before she was a “young lady”; and he who has met her and all
the returning party at Los Angeles answers as swiftly as she asks:
“What is that big stone building crowning the mesa, old Pedro’s mesa?”
“Our new St. Luke’s hospital; over which your friend Miss Sophy is to
rule.”
“That spire? Is that a _church_, right here at our own dear home?”
“Yes. The Church of the Good Shepherd--Who has cared for His
unfortunates,” replies the mine manager, lifting his hat.
“That long low building, in the valley, where the raisin-grapes used to
grow?”
“Ah! you haven’t forgotten localities, I see. That’s our library,
reading-room, bowling alley, amusement place in general.”
“That other, of red brick with white trimmings?”
“Our school; one of the best equipped and officered in southern
California.”
“Those cottages? Such rows and rows of them, each with its bit of green
about it--Who lives in them? Where have the people come from? you must
have irrigated well and lavishly to make so much verdure here.”
“The miners’, carpenters’, and farmers’ homes. Yes, we’ve water now
and to spare. We tapped it in the mountains, an ever-constant flow,
and water you will remember, Miss Jessica, is a ‘mine’ in itself to
California.”
“Everywhere, everywhere, such changes and so fine! Yet it almost
grieves me to come home and find it all so changed. But that is wrong.
It is the dream of my dead father’s life made blessed reality. So, I am
glad after all, and I feel that from somewhere he is looking down on
me returning, bidding me take up and carry on the work he planned, that
you have organized, and that old Pedro’s gift made possible.
“Ah! here we are! And _this_ is unchanged! This dear old ‘house’ is not
one bit different from my memory of it! Home, home, at last?”
As she sprang from the car and sped across the little intervening space
which yet remained, there issued from that cottage door a plump old
lady, decorated everywhere with strips of flying patchwork, her glasses
on top of her old gray head, and a bottle in her hand, which so shakes
with delight that the vial falls to the ground and breaks.
“Why, Jess--All that good picry--Jessie, my love, my lamb! Luis! Wun
Lung! John, Marty, Ephraim Ma’sh--man alive you needed that medicine,
you needed it powerful, and it’s wasted! Never mind, I’ve got more and
after supper--Wun Lung, do you dast tell me you come out and left them
‘sally luns’ to scorch? Back into that kitchen and serve up that supper
or I’ll cut your pigtail off!”
With this dire and oft-repeated threat the Chinaman disappeared,
salaaming and katowing to the last, as he retreated backward and fixed
his admiring gaze upon the girl he had known and always loved.
But why seek to describe that joyful homecoming? Those who have
home-loving hearts may well imagine it for themselves; and those who
have not would not be interested.
But never was there, could there be, a more grateful heart than Jessica
Trent’s, as she stood that night before her own old, open window
and looked out over that vast estate of which she was to be the
chatelaine; while from her lips there rose the humble, happy cry:
“O Thou dear God Who givest all, make me to be worthy of my
Inheritance!”
THE END.
_THE CREAM OF JUVENILE FICTION_
THE BOYS’ OWN LIBRARY
[Illustration]
A Selection of the Best Books for Boys by the Most Popular Authors
The titles in this splendid juvenile series have been selected with
care, and as a result all the stories can be relied upon for their
excellence. They are bright and sparkling; not over-burdened with
lengthy descriptions, but brimful of adventure from the first page to
the last--in fact they are just the kind of yarns that appeal strongly
to the healthy boy who is fond of thrilling exploits and deeds of
heroism. Among the authors whose names are included in the Boys’ Own
Library are Horatio Alger, Jr., Edward S. Ellis, James Otis, Capt.
Ralph Bonehill, Burt L. Standish, Gilbert Patten and Frank H. Converse.
SPECIAL FEATURES OF THE BOYS’ OWN LIBRARY
[Illustration]
All the books in this series are copyrighted, printed on good paper,
large type, illustrated, printed wrappers, handsome cloth covers
stamped in inks and gold--fifteen special cover designs.
_146 Titles--Price, per Volume, 75 cents_
For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by
the publisher,
DAVID McKAY,
610 SO. WASHINGTON SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA, PA.
HORATIO ALGER, Jr.
One of the best known and most popular writers. Good, clean, healthy
stories for the American Boy.
Adventures of a Telegraph Boy
Dean Dunham
Erie Train Boy, The
Five Hundred Dollar Check
From Canal Boy to President
From Farm Boy to Senator
Backwoods Boy, The
Mark Stanton
Ned Newton
New York Boy
Tom Brace
Tom Tracy
Walter Griffith
Young Acrobat
C. B. ASHLEY.
One of the best stories ever written on hunting, trapping and adventure
in the West, after the Custer Massacre.
Gilbert, the Boy Trapper
ANNIE ASHMORE.
A splendid story, recording the adventures of a boy with smugglers.
Smuggler’s Cave, The
CAPT. RALPH BONEHILL.
Capt. Bonehill is in the very front rank as an author of boys’ stories.
These are two of his best works.
Neka, the Boy Conjurer
Tour of the Zero Club
WALTER F. BRUNS.
An excellent story of adventure in the celebrated Sunk Lands of
Missouri and Kansas.
In the Sunk Lands
FRANK H. CONVERSE.
This writer has established a splendid reputation as a boys’ author,
and although his books usually command $1.25 per volume, we offer the
following at a more popular price.
Gold of Flat Top Mountain
Happy-Go-Lucky Jack
Heir to a Million
In Search of An Unknown Race
In Southern Seas
Mystery of a Diamond
That Treasure
Voyage to the Gold Coast
HARRY COLLINGWOOD.
One of England’s most successful writers of stories for boys. His best
story is
Pirate Island
GEORGE H. COOMER.
Two books we highly recommend. One is a splendid story of adventure at
sea, when American ships were in every port in the world, and the other
tells of adventures while the first railway in the Andes Mountains was
being built.
Boys in the Forecastle
Old Man of the Mountain
WILLIAM DALTON.
Three stories by one of the very greatest writers for boys. The stories
deal with boys’ adventures in India, China and Abyssinia. These books
are strongly recommended for boys’ reading, as they contain a large
amount of historical information.
Tiger Prince
War Tiger
White Elephant
EDWARD S. ELLIS.
These books are considered the best works this well-known writer ever
produced. No better reading for bright young Americans.
Arthur Helmuth
Check No. 2134
From Tent to White House
Perils of the Jungle
On the Trail of Geronimo
White Mustang
GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
For the past fifty years Mr. Fenn has been writing books for boys
and popular fiction. His books are justly popular throughout the
English-speaking world. We publish the following select list of his
boys’ books, which we consider the best he ever wrote.
Commodore Junk
Dingo Boys
Golden Magnet
Grand Chaco
Weathercock
ENSIGN CLARKE FITCH, U. S. N.
A graduate of the U. S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, and thoroughly
familiar with all naval matters. Mr. Fitch has devoted himself to
literature, and has written a series of books for boys that every
young American should read. His stories are full of very interesting
information about the navy, training ships, etc.
Bound for Annapolis
Clif, the Naval Cadet
Cruise of the Training Ship
From Port to Port
Strange Cruise, A
WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON.
An author of world-wide popularity. Mr. Graydon is essentially a friend
of young people, and we offer herewith ten of his best works, wherein
he relates a great diversity of interesting adventures in various parts
of the world, combined with accurate historical data.
Butcher of Cawnpore, The
Camp in the Snow, The
Campaigning with Braddock
Cryptogram, The
From Lake to Wilderness
In Barracks and Wigwam
In Fort and Prison
Jungles and Traitors
Rajah’s Fortress, The
White King of Africa, The
LIEUT. FREDERICK GARRISON, U.S.A.
Every American boy takes a keen interest in the affairs of West Point.
No more capable writer on this popular subject could be found than
Lieut. Garrison, who vividly describes the life, adventures and unique
incidents that have occurred in that great institution--in these famous
West Point stories.
Off for West Point
Cadet’s Honor, A
On Guard
West Point Treasure, The
West Point Rivals, The
HEADON HILL.
The hunt for gold has always been a popular subject for consideration,
and Mr. Hill has added a splendid story on the subject in this romance
of the Klondyke.
Spectre Gold
HENRY HARRISON LEWIS.
Mr. Lewis is a graduate of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, and has
written a great many books for boys. Among his best works are the
following titles--the subjects include a vast series of adventures in
all parts of the world. The historical data is correct, and they should
be read by all boys, for the excellent information they contain.
Centreboard Jim
King of the Island
Midshipman Merrill
Ensign Merrill
Sword and Pen
Valley of Mystery, The
Yankee Boys in Japan
LIEUT. LIONEL LOUNSBERRY.
A series of books embracing many adventures under our famous naval
commanders, and with our army during the War of 1812 and the Civil War.
Founded on sound history, these books are written for boys, with the
idea of combining pleasure with profit; to cultivate a fondness for
study--especially of what has been accomplished by our army and navy.
Cadet Kit Carey
Captain Carey
Kit Carey’s Protégé
Lieut. Carey’s Luck
Out With Commodore Decatur
Randy, the Pilot
Tom Truxton’s School Days
Tom Truxton’s Ocean Trip
Treasure of the Golden Crater
Won at West Point
BROOKS McCORMICK.
Four splendid books of adventure on sea and land, by this well-known
writer for boys.
Giant Islanders, The
How He Won
Nature’s Young Nobleman
Rival Battalions
WALTER MORRIS.
This charming story contains thirty-two chapters of just the sort of
school life that charms the boy readers.
Bob Porter at Lakeview Academy
STANLEY NORRIS.
Mr. Norris is without a rival as a writer of “Circus Stories” for boys.
These four books are full of thrilling adventures, but good, wholsome
reading for young Americans.
Phil, the Showman
Young Showman’s Rivals, The
Young Showman’s Pluck, The
Young Showman’s Triumph
LIEUT. JAMES K. ORTON.
When a boy has read one of Lieut. Orton’s books, it requires no urging
to induce him to read the others. Not a dull page in any of them.
Beach Boy Joe
Last Chance Mine
Secret Chart, The
Tom Havens with the White Squadron
JAMES OTIS.
Mr. Otis is known by nearly every American boy, and needs no
introduction here. The following copyrights are among his best:
Chased Through Norway
Inland Waterways
Unprovoked Mutiny
Wheeling for Fortune
Reuben Green’s Adventures at Yale
GILBERT PATTEN.
Mr. Patten has had the distinction of having his books adopted by the
U. S. Government for all naval libraries on board our war ships. While
aiming to avoid the extravagant and sensational, the stories contain
enough thrilling incidents to please the lad who loves action and
adventure. In the Rockspur stories the description of their Baseball
and Football Games and other contests with rival clubs and teams make
very exciting and absorbing reading; and few boys with warm blood in
their veins, having once begun the perusal of one of these books, will
willingly lay it down till it is finished.
Boy Boomers
Boy Cattle King
Boy from the West
Don Kirke’s Mine
Jud and Joe
Rockspur Nine, The
Rockspur Eleven, The
Rockspur Rivals, The
ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE.
Mr. Rathborne’s stories for boys have the peculiar charm of dealing
with localities and conditions with which he is thoroughly familiar.
The scenes of these excellent stories are along the Florida coast and
on the western prairies.
Canoe and Camp Fire
Paddling Under Palmettos
Rival Canoe Boys
Sunset Ranch
Chums of the Prairie
Young Range Riders
Gulf Cruisers
Shifting Winds
ARTHUR SEWELL.
An American story by an American author. It relates how a Yankee boy
overcame many obstacles in school and out. Thoroughly interesting from
start to finish.
Gay Dashleigh’s Academy Days
CAPT. DAVID SOUTHWICK.
An exceptionally good story of frontier life among the Indians in the
far West, during the early settlement period.
Jack Wheeler
The Famous Frank Merriwell Stories.
BURT L. STANDISH.
No modern series of tales for boys and youths has met with anything
like the cordial reception and popularity accorded to the Frank
Merriwell Stories. There must be a reason for this and there is. Frank
Merriwell, as portrayed by the author, is a jolly whole-souled, honest,
courageous American lad, who appeals to the hearts of the boys. He
has no bad habits, and his manliness inculcates the idea that it is
not necessary for a boy to indulge in petty vices to be a hero. Frank
Merriwell’s example is a shining light for every ambitious lad to
follow. Ten volumes now ready:
Frank Merriwell’s School Days
Frank Merriwell’s Chums
Frank Merriwell’s Foes
Frank Merriwell’s Trip West
Frank Merriwell Down South
Frank Merriwell’s Bravery
Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour
Frank Merriwell’s Races
Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield
Frank Merriwell at Yale
VICTOR ST. CLAIR.
These books are full of good, clean adventure, thrilling enough to
please the full-blooded wide-awake boy, yet containing nothing to which
there can be any objection from those who are careful as to the kind of
books they put into the hands of the young.
Cast Away in the Jungle
Comrades Under Castro
For Home and Honor
From Switch to Lever
Little Snap, the Post Boy
Zig-Zag, the Boy Conjurer
Zip, the Acrobat
MATTHEW WHITE, JR.
Good, healthy, strong books for the American lad. No more interesting
books for the young appear on our lists.
Adventures of a Young Athlete
Eric Dane
Guy Hammersley
My Mysterious Fortune
Tour of a Private Car
Young Editor, The
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.
One of the most popular authors of boys’ books. Here are three of his
best.
Mark Dale’s Stage Venture
Young Bank Clerk, The
Young Bridge Tender, The
GAYLE WINTERTON.
This very interesting story relates the trials and triumphs of a Young
American Actor, including the solution of a very puzzling mystery.
Young Actor, The
ERNEST A. YOUNG.
This book is not a treatise on sports, as the title would indicate, but
relates a series of thrilling adventures among boy campers in the woods
of Maine.
Boats, Bats and Bicycles
DAVID McKAY, Publisher, Philadelphia.
* * * * * *
Transcriber’s note:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Alternate or archaic spelling has been retained from the original.