CONCLUSION.
"What shall we do to celebrate your birthday, my child?" asked
Grandmother Kitty, early in that first week of October on whose
Saturday the young girl would reach to the dignity of sixteen years.
"All the conditions of your life are so different from mine at your
age: seeming to make you both older and younger--if you understand
what I mean--that I would like to hear your own wishes."
"They shall be yours, Grandma dearest. You always have such happy
ideas. I'd like yours best."
"No, indeed! Not this time. I want everything to be exactly as you
like this year; especially since you are now to assume the main charge
of some of our charities."
"I feel so unfitted for the responsibility you are giving me, Sun
Maid. I'm afraid I shall make many blunders."
"Doesn't everybody? And isn't it by seeing wherein we blunder and
avoiding the pitfall a second time that we learn to walk surely and
swiftly? You have been well trained to know the value of the money
which God has given you so plentifully and of that loving sympathy
which is better and richer than the wealth. I am not afraid for you,
though it is an excellent sign that you are afraid for yourself. Now a
truce to sermons. Let's hear the birthday wish. I am getting an old
lady and don't like to be kept waiting."
"Sunny Maid! you are not old, nor ever will be!"
"Not in my heart, darling. How can I feel so when there is so much
in life to do and enjoy? I have to bring myself up short quite
often and remind myself how many birthdays of my own have gone by;
though it seems but yesterday that Gaspar and I were standing by the
Snake-Who-Leaps and learning how to hold our bows that we might shoot
skilfully, even though riding bareback and at full speed, yet----"
"I believe that you could do the very same still; and that there isn't
another old lady----"
"Let me interrupt this time. Aren't you contradicting yourself? Were
you speaking of 'old' ladies?"
"You funny Grandma! Well, then, I don't believe there's another
young-old person in this great city can sit a horse as you do. If you
would only ride somewhere besides in our own park and just for once
let people see you! How many Snowbirds have you owned in your
lifetime, Grandmother?"
"One real Snowbird, with several imitations. Still, they have been
pretty fair, for Gaspar selected them and he was a fine judge of
horseflesh. You must remember that as long as he was with me we rode
together anywhere and everywhere he wished. He was a splendid
horseman."
"He was 'splendid' in all things, wasn't he, Sun Maid?" asked the
girl, with a lingering tenderness upon the other's Indian name and
knowing that it still was very pleasant in the ears of her who owned
it.
"He was a man. He had grown to the full stature of a man. That covers
all. But let's get back to birthday wishes. What are they?"
"They're pretty big; all about the new 'Girls' Home' where I am to
work for you. I think if the girls knew me, not as just somebody who
is richer than they and wants to do them good, but as an equal,
another giddy-head like themselves, it would make things ever so much
easier for all of us. I would like to go through all the big stores
and factories and places and find out every single girl who is sixteen
and have them out to Keith House for a real delightful holiday. And
because I like boys, and presume other girls do, too--Don't stiffen
your neck, please, Grandmother; remember there were you and
Gaspar----"
"But we were different."
"Maybe; yet these girls have brothers, and I wish I had. Never mind,
though. I'd like to invite them all out here for Saturday and Sunday.
On Saturday evening we'd have an old-fashioned young folks' party,
with games and frolics such as were common years and years ago. Then,
for Sunday, there'd be the ministers who are to stop here during that
convention that's coming, and they'd be glad, I know, to speak to us
young folks. It's perfect weather, and all day these young things who
are shut up all the week could roam about the park, or read, or rest
in the picture-gallery or library, and--eat."
The Sun Maid laughed.
"Do you really stop to think about the eating? How many do you imagine
would have to be fed? And I assure you, my young dreamer, that, though
it doesn't sound especially well, the feeding of her guests is one of
the most important duties of every hostess. But I'll take that part
off your hands. You attend to the spiritual and moral entertainment
and I'll order the table part. Yet your plan calls for many sleeping
accommodations. How about that?"
"I thought, Grandmother, maybe you'd let me open the 'Barrack' again.
That would do for the boys, and there's surely room enough in this
great house for all the girls who'd care to stay."
A shadow passed over the Sun Maid's face, but it--_passed_. In a
moment she looked up brightly and answered as, a few hours later, she
was to be most thankful she had done:
"Very well. After the war was over and I closed it I felt as if I
could never reopen the place. Though Gaspar and my boys never saw it,
somehow it seemed always theirs. I suppose because it had been built
for the benefit of those who had fought and suffered with them. Now I
see that this was morbid; and I am glad I have never torn the building
down, as I have sometimes thought I would. You may have it for your
friends and should set about airing and preparing it at once. Also, if
you are to give so many invitations, you would better start upon
them."
"Couldn't I just put an advertisement in the papers? That's so easy
and short."
"And--rude!"
"Rude?"
"Yes. There would be no compliment in a newspaper invitation. Would
you fancy one for yourself?"
"No, indeed, I should not. That rule of yours, to 'put yourself in his
place,' is a pretty good one, after all, isn't it?"
"Yes. Now order the carriage and I'll go with you on your rounds and
make a list as we do so of how many will need to be provided for. We
shall have a busy week before us."
"But a happy one, Grandmother. Your face is shining already, even more
than usual. I believe in your heart of hearts you love girls better
than anything else in this world."
"Maybe. Except--boys."
"And flowers, and animals. How they will enjoy the conservatories! And
it wouldn't be wrong, would it, to have out the horses between times
on Sunday and let these young things, who'd never had a chance, see
how glorious a feeling it is to ride a fine horse? Just around the
park, you know."
"Which would be quite as far as most of them would care to ride, I
fancy, for there are very few people who call their first experience
on horseback a 'glorious' one."
It was a busy week indeed, but a joyful one, full of anticipation
concerning the coming festivities. Never had the Sun Maid appeared
younger or gayer or entered more heartily into the preparations for
entertainment. A dozen times, maybe, during those mornings of shopping
and ordering and superintending, did she exclaim with fervor:
"Thank God for Gaspar's money, that makes us able to give others
pleasure!"
"Grandmother, even for a foreign nobleman you wouldn't do half so
much!"
"Foreign? No, indeed. To all their due; and to our own young
Americans, these toilers who are the glory of our nation, let every
deference be paid. Did you write about the orchestra? That was to play
during Saturday's supper?"
"Yes, indeed. I believe nothing is forgotten."
To the guests, who came at the appointed time, it certainly did not
seem so; and almost every one was there who had been asked.
"I did not believe that there could be found so many working girls in
Chicago who are just sixteen," cried the gay young hostess, standing
upon the great stair and looking down across the wide parlor, crowded
with bright, graceful figures.
"I did. My Chicago is a wonderful city, child. But I do not believe
that in any other city in the world could be gathered another such
assemblage. Typical American girls, every one. May God bless them!
Their beauty, their bearing, even their attire, would compare most
favorably with any company of young women who are far more richly
dowered by dollars. And the boys; even with their greater shyness, how
did they ever learn to be so courteous, so----"
"Oh, my Sun Maid! Answer yourself, in your own words. 'It's in the
air. It's just--Chicago!'"
When the fun was at the highest, there came a belated guest who
brought news that greatly disquieted the elder hostess, though none of
the merrymakers about her seemed to think it a matter half as
important as the next game on the list.
"A fire, broken out in the city? That is serious. The season is so dry
and there are many buildings in Chicago that would burn like
kindlings. However, let us hope it will soon be subdued; and there is
somebody calling you, I think."
Although anything which menaced the prosperity of the town she loved
so well always disturbed the Sun Maid, she put this present matter
from her almost as easily as she dismissed the youth who had brought
the bad tidings. The housing and entertaining of Kitty's guests was an
engrossing affair; and all Sunday was occupied in these duties; but on
Sunday night came a time of leisure.
It was then, while resting among her girls and discussing their early
departure in the morning--which their lives of labor rendered
necessary--that a second messenger arrived with a second message of
disaster.
"There's another fire downtown, and it's burning like a whirlwind!"
"We have an excellent fire department," answered the hostess, with
confident pride.
"It can't make much show against this blaze. I think those of us who
can should get home at once."
The Sun Maid's heart sank. The coming event had cast its shadow upon
her and, foreseeing evil, she replied instantly:
"Those who must go shall be conveyed at once; but I urge all who will
to remain. Keith House is as safe as any place can be if this fire
continues to spread. It is not probable, even at the best, that any of
you will be wanted at your employers' in the morning. The excitement
will not be over, even if the conflagration is."
The company divided. There were many who were anxious about home
friends and hastened away in the vehicles so hastily summoned; but
there were also many whose only home was a boarding-house and who were
thankful for the shelter and hospitality offered. Among these last
were some of the young men, and the Sun Maid summoned them to her own
office and discussed with them some plans of usefulness to others.
"We shall none of us be able to sleep to-night. I have a feeling that
we ought not. I wish, therefore, you would go out and engage all the
teams you possibly can from this neighborhood; and go with them and
their drivers to the threatened districts, as well as those already
destroyed. Our great house and grounds are open to all. Bring any who
wish, and assure them that they will be cared for."
"But there may be thieves among them," objected one lad, who had a
keener judgment of what might occur.
"There is always evil amid the good; but not for that reason should
any poor creature suffer. Remember I am able to help liberally in
money, and never so thankful as now that this is so. Go and do your
best."
They scattered, proud to serve her, and thrilled with the excitement
of that awful hour; but many were amazed to find that after a brief
time she had followed them herself.
The younger Kitty pleaded, though vainly, to prevent her grandmother's
departure, for the Sun Maid answered firmly:
"You are to take my place as mistress here. I will have the old
coachman drive me in the phaeton to the nearest point advisable. I
must be on the spot, but I will not recklessly risk myself. Only, my
dear, it is _our city_, Gaspar's and mine; almost a personal
belonging, since we two watched its growth from a tiny village to the
great town it has become. Gaspar would be there with his aid and
counsel. I must take his place."
There were many who saw her, and will forever remember the noble
woman, standing upright in the low vehicle at a point where two ways
met; with the light of the burning city falling over her wonderful
hair, that had long since turned snowy white, and bringing out the
beauty of a face whose loveliness neither age nor sorrow could dim.
The sadness in her tender eyes deepened as she could see the cruel
blaze sweeping on and on, wiping out home after home and hurling to
destruction the mighty structures of which she had been so personally
proud.
"Oh, I have loved it, I have loved it! Its very paving-stones have
been dear to me, and it is as if all these fleeing, homeless ones were
my own children. Well, it is--Chicago,--a city with a mission. It
cannot die. Let the fire do its worst; not all shall perish. There are
things which cannot burn. Again and again and again I have thanked God
for the wealth he led my Gaspar, the penniless and homeless, to
gain--for His own glory. Let the flames destroy unto the limit He has
set. Out of their ruins shall rise another city, fairer and lovelier
than this has been; richer because of this purification and far more
tender in its broad welcome to humanity."
Hour after hour she waited there, directing, comforting, assisting;
giving shelter and sustenance, and, best of all, the influence of her
high faith and indomitable courage. As it had done before, her clear
sight gazed into the future and beheld the glory that should be; and,
like every prophecy her tongue had ever uttered, this, spoken there in
the very light of her desolation, as it were, has already been more
than verified.
This all who knew the Beautiful City as it was and now know it as it
is will cheerfully attest; and some there are among these who deem it
their highest privilege to go sometimes to a stately mansion, set
among old trees, where in a sunshiny chamber sits an old, old lady,
who yet seems perennially young. Her noble head still keeps its heavy
crown of silver, her eye is yet bright, her intellect keen, and her
interest in her fellow-men but deepens with the years.
Very like her is the younger Kitty, who is never far away; who has
grown to be a person of influence in all her city's beneficence; and
who believes that there was never another woman in all the world like
her grandmother.
"Yes," she assures you earnestly, "she is the Sun Maid indeed,--a
fountain of delight to all who know her. She has still the heart of a
child and a child's perfect health. I confidently expect to see her
round her century."
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise
every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and
intent.