SMILES AND TEARS.
While riding through Nevada, Browning, after a long look from the car
window, said:
"By Jove, Jim, but is not this a desolate region? It is as though when
the rocky foundation had been laid, there was no more material to furnish
this part of the world with, and the work stopped."
"Yes, Jack," was Sedgwick's answer. "I knew an old man once. He was very
aged and most decrepit. His face was but a mass of wrinkles; his back was
bent; he always wore a frown on his face, and every relative he had
wished that he was dead. But his bank account was a mighty one; he had
given grand homes and plenty of money to each of his six children; he
still possessed a fortune so large that his neighbors could not estimate
it. I never look out upon the face of Nevada that I do not think of that
old man.
"The fairest structures in San Francisco were built of the treasures
taken from Nevada hills; clear across the continent, in every great city
are beautiful blocks which are but Nevada gold and silver converted into
stone and iron and glass; in every State are fair homes which were bought
or redeemed with the money obtained here in the desert. Beyond that, the
money already supplied from Nevada mines has changed the calculations of
commerce, and made itself a ruling factor in prices; it has given our
nation a new standing among the nations of the world; because of it, the
lands are worth more money even in the Miami Valley where I was born;
because of it, better wages are paid to laborers throughout our republic;
it has been a factor of good, a blessing to civilization; and yet Eastern
people revile Nevada and look upon it as did the relatives of the old man
I was telling you of, because it is wrinkled and sere and always wears a
frowning face."
As Sedgwick and Browning neared Chicago, the former began to grow
restless, and finally said:
"Jack, old friend, you must go home with me. It is something I dread more
than riding mustangs or fighting cowboys. It is more than five years
since I went away, and it will be just worse than a fire in a mine to
face."
Browning agreed that a few days more or less would not count. "Because,"
he said, "if Rose Jenvie is still Rose Jenvie, it will not much matter;
if Rose Jenvie is not Rose Jenvie, then, by Jove, every minute of delay
in knowing that fact is good. Besides, you know, I want to see that
three-hundred-acre farm of old Jasper's on the hill which you are to
buy."
They remained a few hours only in Chicago, and took the evening train for
the valley of the Miami. The next morning, about seven o'clock, they left
the cars at a little village station, and started on foot for the old
home of Sedgwick, a mile away.
"Browning," said Sedgwick, "it was mighty kind of you to come with me.
I ran bare-footed over this road every summer day of my boyhood. In that
old school-house I could show you notches which I cut in the tables and
benches, and it seems now as though I was choking." They came to the old
churchyard. "Hold, Jack," said Sedgwick, "let us go in here and look to
see if any more graves have been added since I went away."
They climbed the fence, and Sedgwick led the way to a plot of ground
where there were three headstones. "Thank God, there are no new graves,"
he said. "This was my sister; this, my baby brother, and this, my
mother," pointing to the names on the headstones. "Had my mother been
alive, I would long ago have come back."
Then, with more calmness, he turned his steps back to the road, but he
was shaking in every limb when he opened the old gate and walked up
toward the house. The path was lined with lilacs in full bloom, and a
robin in a tree near by was calling her mate. "The same old lilacs, the
same old redbreast, Browning," he said, with white lips.
He did not stop to knock, but pushed the door suddenly open and strode
within. Walking up to an old man, who was reading his Bible, he said,
"Father, I am sorry that I fought the mulatto, if it grieved you, but the
black rascal deserved it, all the same."
The old man surveyed him wildly for a moment, then broke completely down,
and, wringing the young man's hands, could only sob:
"Thank God, my son, whom I thought was lost, is back again. Thank God!"
Then the brothers and their wives and children came in, and there was
such a scene that Browning slipped out, seated himself on the piazza, and
mopping his brow with his kerchief, said, "Bless my soul; I believe I
will never go home. There is more real enjoyment at a miner's funeral in
Virginia City; there is, by Jove."
But they found him after a little, and Sedgwick presented him to his
kinfolk as his close companion, and he was welcomed in a way which
touched him deeply, and made him conclude that the world was filled with
good people.
Soon the news spread, and the neighbors began to pour in, and what a day
it was! What old memories were awakened and rehearsed; what every one had
done; who had died; who had married; all the history of the little place
for all the years.
Going home after a long absence is a little like what one might imagine
of a resurrection from the dead. There is exceeding joy, but mingled with
it is much of the damp and chill of the tomb. Indeed, going home after a
long absence "causes all the burial places of memory to give up their
dead," and through all the joy there is an undertone of sorrow, for all
the reminders are of the fact that the calmest lives are speedily
sweeping on; that there is no halting in the swift transit between birth
and death.
Three days passed, and notwithstanding the enjoyment, Sedgwick found that
there was a good deal of trouble worrying the family. The old mortgage of
$5,000 was not paid; rather, it had been doubled to make a first payment
on a 200-acre farm adjoining, and with fitting up and stocking the old
place, and with bad crops, the debts amounted altogether to more than
$20,000. He did not tell any one of his good fortune. He was dressed in a
plain business suit, without a single ornament. The watch he carried for
convenience was merely a cheap silver watch.
On the fourth day, Browning said to his friend: "Jim, old pard, I must
be off to-morrow. You have had a good visit. Come over to England with me
for a month, and help me through with--Rose and the old man."
"Agreed, Jack," said Sedgwick. "I want to fix up some little things here,
and I do not want to be around when the fixing shall be understood. It
will be a good excuse to get away."
Then going to a desk, he wrote a few words, took a bill of exchange
for $100,000 from his pocketbook, endorsed it, making it payable to his
father, folded the bill inside the letter, sealed it and directed it to
his father; then putting the letter in his pocket, said, "That will make
it all right."
At supper that evening he informed the family that he was going on the
early train with his friend and might be gone a month or six weeks, after
which he believed he would return, settle down and become steady. All
tried to dissuade him, but Browning helped him, telling the family he
needed his friend's help on serious business; and so that night the
kindling was put in the kitchen stove, the dough for biscuits for
breakfast was set, the tea-kettle filled, the chickens fixed for frying,
and the coffee ground.
It was but a little after daylight next morning when, the breakfast over,
they were ready to start. They shook hands all round, and when it came to
saying good-bye to his father, Sedgwick drew out the letter, and giving
it to the old man, said: "Father, when you hear the train pull out of the
village, open that letter. It contains a little keepsake for you which I
picked up by a scratch in Nevada." And they were off.
When that letter was opened, and the astounding figures on the bill were
read and comprehended, what a time there was at that house, and how the
neighbors came again to see the wonderful paper, and how it was figured
how many farms it would buy, what houses it would build and furnish, and
how the boy who had been expelled from school for fighting had done it
all! What a smashing of old theories it made, and how every wild boy in
the neighborhood to whom the evil example of the bad Sedgwick boy had
been held up as an illustration of total depravity and as proof that
nothing of good ever came to a youth that would fight and get expelled
from school, rejoiced! To these, what a day of exultation that bill of
exchange brought!
But it was only a day, before there began to circulate rumors that the
whole thing was but a joke; that the bill would be repudiated when
presented for payment, or at most that it was only for $1,000.
Sedgwick, _pere_, with his sons, lost no time in testing the matter.
Sedgwick had written in the letter that though the bill was drawn on New
York, any bank in Cincinnati would cash it. So they repaired to the city,
and calling on their lawyer, asked him to go with them and identify them
at some bank, as they desired to get a little check cashed. He complied.
The cashier looked at the bill and asked in what kind of money the
payment was wanted.
The old man thought he would give his neighbors an object lesson, and
replied that he would take it in gold.
The cashier smiled and asked him how he would take it away.
The old man said, "I do not understand you."
"It will, in gold, weigh about 400 pounds," said the cashier.
At this the lawyer became interested in a moment and said: "Four hundred
pounds of gold! What kind of a check have you?"
"It is a bill of exchange on New York for $100,000," said the cashier.
"One hundred thousand dollars!" said the lawyer; "Great heavens! have you
found an oil well on your farm, robbed a bank, or what?"
"No," said the elder Sedgwick, "but my wild boy has come from Nevada, and
I guess this is a part of the great bonanza."
Finally $25,000 was drawn in paper, enough to clear up all the home
indebtedness, and the rest left on deposit until the son and brother
should return; for, as they talked it all over, they concluded that he
had left with them all his fortune, except traveling expenses.