A California Girl Part 2

You can't get a man to leave; they stick to him closer than a brother.

He has ten standing applicants to fill the next vacancy he may have. And did you ever see a place where men worked so orderly, harmoniously, and thoroughly as they do on the Herne ranch? You don't see any of the trees in his orchard barked through having careless, mad teamsters while harrowing and cultivating. Herne's horses, harness, and machinery look better and last more than twice as long, because the men take great interest in caring for them. It's not all go out of pocket with Herne in what he does for his men. Some pretty big returns come back."

"Yes," said Mrs. Holbrooke, "Lena Herne told me that her brother and herself were sitting on the porch one evening, and she was talking to Charles about the men and what he had done for them, when he said, 'Lena, I would not give up the love and respect which these men have for me, and I for them, and the quiet, peaceful understanding that exists between us, for all the ranches in the county.' She said that she and her brother very often spent their evenings with the men in games, singing and a general social time, and there are lots of young people in the neighborhood that call on them to play croquet and lawn-tennis of a Sat.u.r.day afternoon or to spend a pleasant evening. Just think,"

continued Mrs. Holbrooke, "those men at Herne's only work five and a half days in the week, and those days are short ones. I tell you, Holbrooke, those men have a far better time than you do, though you own a ranch and they don't; you are a slave compared to them."

"Some of the men say that Herne don't talk Christianity to them, but he puts some mighty big Christian principles in practice," said her husband.

It was as Sophia had mentally said, "A perfect day to be married on."

The newly married couple, as they journeyed from Roseland to Treelawn, found the sun just warm enough to be pleasant, for it was in the early part of March. The road was in fine condition, for there was neither mud nor dust. A gentle breeze wafted the sweet scented odors from the flower-decked fields, with their carpets of green. All nature seemed smiling, for was it not its mating season? What was all the chattering going on in the trees and the songs in the bushes, but the feathery tribe making love to each other. It seemed as if on this day all Nature was singing one grand anthem with a hallelujah chorus.

As the happy pair looked at the scene, they forgot for the moment their own happiness in the contemplation of Nature's grandeur.

Before them rose the variegated hills of the Sierras, the sun bringing out the brilliant coloring of the rocks; higher behind these the glittering snow-covered peaks, and above all the matchless blue of the heavens.

To them the world seemed indeed all joy and beauty, and a home together, a paradise. And so they entered upon the new life.

CHAPTER IV.

JULIA HAMMOND.

The settlement in which Treelawn was located was called Orangeville, and covered a large area of country. It had a general store--post-office, church, school-house, hall, blacksmith-shop, and two saloons.

For reasons best known to himself, Charles Herne had kept his wedding a secret from all his neighbors, and it was really more by intuition than by actual knowledge that Mrs. Holbrooke came into possession of the fact.

On the morning after the wedding, Sam Gilmore, like a good husband, had quietly risen and dressed himself, leaving his spouse to finish her nap.

After seeing that the fire in the kitchen stove was burning brightly and the tea-kettle set on, he went to the barn. After a short time he returned to the house, and putting his head into the bedroom, said with some excitement, "Sarah, I've got some news for you. Charles Herne has got him a wife."

When Sarah Gilmore received that piece of astounding intelligence, the mental shock seemed to produce paralysis, for the garment she was about to put on remained suspended in the air as she exclaimed: "Well, I swan!

I thought he was married to his hired pets. How did you hear the news, Sam?"

"Nettleton told me. He was over to see if I would let him have the bays to-day."

"Did you let them go?" asked his wife.

"No, I told him I was going to use them on the ranch to-day," said Sam, closing the door and going back to the barn.

As Sam went out of the bedroom door the paralysis went, too, for no woman ever moved more quickly in putting on the rest of her garments than did Sarah Gilmore that morning.

There was a very good breakfast waiting for Sam when he came in from the barn, and above all Sarah had made him a plate of light, rich batter-cakes, which he always relished very much. They were set a little way into the oven with the door open, to keep warm, his good wife having b.u.t.tered and sugared them, all ready for Sam to pour rich cream over them.

After breakfast, as Sam was on his way to the barn, he said to himself, "My! Sarah is a fine cook. I would be willing to bet ten dollars she can knock the spots out of Charles Herne's wife in cooking; and she is so cheerful while getting up good meals, and don't make any fuss about it, either."

Sam and the bays worked well that morning in doing a little light work.

Sarah lost no time in putting the breakfast dishes into the dish-pan, but instead of was.h.i.+ng them immediately, as was her way, she was seen going over a well-beaten trail toward a house where smoke was coming out of the chimney. When she opened the door, she found Mrs. Green just wiping a mush-bowl which had been used at breakfast.

"Well, Carrie," said Sarah Gilmore to Mrs. Green, "what do you think has happened? Charles Herne has come home with a bride."

"There, now, Sarah, you surprise me," said Mrs. Green.

"I guess every body is surprised," said Mrs. Gilmore.

After a few minutes' more conversation, she hurried back to wash her dishes and get dinner.

When Sam came to dinner he found his wife in the best of spirits, with a big dinner for him to enjoy. Sam's alimentive faculty being in a state of great activity, he ate heartily, finis.h.i.+ng up with two pieces of Sarah's extra rich peach cobbler. After dinner Sam went to the fire-place where he sat rocking himself, and soon was enjoying a smoke.

He had been smoking about five minutes when his wife said: "I really like the smell of the tobacco you smoke, but if you were to smoke such stinking stuff as Horace does, I would get up and leave you. But yours does smell real sweet."

"Horace Green is too stingy to smoke good tobacco," said Sam, after which remark he brought his hand to the side of his leg each time he let the smoke curl out of his mouth, feeling well satisfied with himself and all the world beside.

Did you ever have the experience of pa.s.sing through a large barnyard, and going from one end to the other with a lean, hungry hog after you, yelling and squealing, trying to eat you up by snapping first at one of your legs and then at the other? You kick at him with first one foot, saying, "Sooy, sooy;" then you, with the other foot, kick backwards, saying, "Sooy, sooy." And after going through this performance many, many times, you reach the gate and shut it between yourself and the hog, leaving him on the inside, amidst deafening noise made by his hungry squeals. After you have left, he does his best to tear down the fence, so strong are the pangs of hunger in him.

A few minutes after that you take him a pail of rich b.u.t.termilk, then a large pail of fresh ripe figs, and two dozen ears of sweet corn. You go out in that barnyard an hour afterwards and you don't hear any hog noise. You don't see a hog even moving, for he is lying down in the greatest state of quiet. He will let you do just what you have a mind to do to him. You can scratch him and you will find him good-natured and he seems to enjoy your attentions. He is in such a contented, happy state, that you can roll him or do anything you wish to him.

So it is with some men. By making love to them through their stomachs, you will find them in as happy a frame of mind as Sam Gilmore was as he finished his pipe. His wife saw that he was taking his last puffs, so she said, "Sam, can I have the bays to go over to the Henshaws' this afternoon?"

"Well," replied Sam, "I was going to haul wood, but I guess I can let that go. What time do you want them?"

"Two o'clock," said his wife.

Sarah said that Sam brought the bays around to the front door and was as lively round her and the team as he was twenty years ago when she was a maiden and he came courting her at her father's.

Talk about the diplomacy of Bismarck, d'Israeli, and the Russian Amba.s.sador in settling the Eastern question at the close of the Russo-Turkish war; why there are women in Orangeville who can give them pointers on diplomacy.

The bays thought that either a peddler or minister was driving them that afternoon, they made so many short calls. There was one thing certain--Sarah Gilmore was not to blame if the people of Orangeville did not know Charles Herne was married.

When Green entered the house his wife said: "Horace, what do you think?

Charles Herne has brought home a bride."

"A what?" said her husband.

"A bride," said his wife. "May be it's so long since you saw a bride, you have entirely forgotten how one looks. You had better hustle round and pony up that seventy-five dollars you are owing him. He will need it to buy silks, satins and laces for the bride."

"h.e.l.l's to pay," said Green.

Early the same morning Henry Storms entered the "Crow's Nest" saloon in Orangeville, where two men were talking over the bar to the saloon-keeper. Storms, walking up to where they were, saluted them by saying: "h.e.l.l's broke loose."

"What's up now?" said one of the men.

"Why," said Storms, "Charles Herne has got a running mate."

"Drinks for four," called out another man.

When the drinks were ready four men raised their gla.s.ses, one saying, "Drink hearty to Charles Herne and his partner."