The four Corners in California

by Amy Ella Blanchard

THE OLD GENTLEMAN

It was Jack who made their stay in New Orleans more memorable than it would otherwise have been, for she became possessed of a frantic love of elevators, and, having made friends with the elevator boy, spent most of her time, when she could escape from the others, in riding up and down from the top floor of the hotel to the basement. In consequence of this fancy she was led into a predicament which gave considerable trouble to the entire party.

Miss Helen was conducting the expedition to California, for she was an experienced traveler, but she confessed that Jack was an element such as she never before had been obliged to consider. The trunks had gone on to the station, the carriage was waiting at the door, the bill had been paid, the servants had received their tips, but no Jack appeared. Nan scurried in one direction, Mary Lee in another, Jean in a third. Had any one seen a little girl in brown hat and coat, wandering about the hotel?

"She was all ready to go, for I put on her hat myself," said Mrs. Corner. "What can have become of the child?"

Miss Helen started off to add her powers of search to the others. "We haven't a great deal of time," she remarked.

"Dear, dear, what could have made the child do so?" exclaimed Mrs. Corner, annoyed by the delay.

In a few minutes Jean came running in. "She's in the elevator," she said, "and it's stuck between the fourth and fifth floors, so she can't go up or down."

Then Nan came along followed by Mary Lee. "We've found out where she is, but we can't get at her. What shall we do?" they asked.

"I'm sure I don't know," said Mrs. Corner. "Go find your Aunt Helen, Nan, and tell her what is the matter. We shall have to wait till another train, I am afraid, though it will upset all our arrangements."

There was no help for it; wait they must, for it required some tinkering to free the elevator and its occupants. "Well, I hope you have had enough of elevators," said Mary Lee, as she, with her sisters, greeted the liberated Jack. "You've made Aunt Helen, and all of us, a lot of trouble, for it is too late for our train and we shall have to wait till afternoon."

To which Jack replied smoothly: "Good! then I can go up and down ever so many times more."

"Indeed, you will do nothing of the kind," returned Nan. "You will not get out of our sight again, for who knows but the next time you may have to stay all night between floors. I wouldn't trust to that elevator again."

This suggestion rather dampened Jack's ardor, and she submitted with rather a good grace to her mother's command to take no more elevator rides that day, and she welcomed Nan's suggestion that they go forth to find some pralines for Aunt Helen. "She is so fond of them," said Nan to her mother, "and it will keep Jack out of mischief if I take her to walk."

"I wasn't in any mischief," objected Jack. "I'm sure it wasn't my fault that the elevator stuck. You all talk as if I were always making accidents happen. Could I help it, mother?"

"No, but you could have helped being in the elevator at a time when you should have been on hand with your sisters; that is where the trouble came in. Do look in my bag, Nan, and get her a clean handkerchief; that one is a sight."

"May I have some smell-sweet on it—the clean one I mean?" said Jack, stuffing into her pocket the soiled little ball she held.

"No, you may not," returned Nan shortly. "I am not going to undo that bottle again. I wish we hadn't brought it; you've badgered me to death every time you have had a clean handkerchief, and we brought that cologne only for headaches. You are as bad as Unc' Landy about wanting to perfume yourself up."

"Is Jean going with us?" asked Jack, turning aside the reproof.

"No, Mary Lee is reading the rest of that story to her."

"Oh, I wanted to hear that, too," said Jack, turning back.

"You can't now, for I am not going to wait for you."

"Oh, Nan, you are so cross," complained Jack. "If you are going to be like this all the time, I wish we didn't have to go to California."

"I was cross," replied Nan contritely, "but I was so put out because we missed that train, Jack, and I haven't gotten over it yet. I'll be nice hereafter, and I will read the rest of the story to you if we get back in time, and if we don't I can read it to you on the train."

Jack's face cleared and she put her hand confidingly in Nan's. It was not often that this eldest sister bore down upon her so heavily, for she generally stood between herself and lectures, and to have Nan fail her in an hour of need seemed a very sorry thing to Jack, little sinner though she was.

They started down the corridor of the hotel but suddenly Jack turned and ran back. Nan followed close upon her heels, grabbing her by the shoulder before she had gone many steps. "I declare, Jack," she cried, "you are just like a mosquito; I think I have you and off you go. What are you going back for?"

"I only wanted to tell Mary Lee not to leave the book with the story in it."

"She won't leave it; she knows we haven't finished reading it. We must hurry or we won't get back for the next train and that would be a sad go."

"I shouldn't care," remarked Jack nonchalantly.

"To tell you the truth, neither should I," returned Nan, "for I am quite willing to see more of this nice old place, but we can't do just as we would like; we must think of mother and Aunt Helen. Don't stop to look at those postal cards, we can do that some other time."

So forth they fared into the streets of the old part of the city where in a certain shop the delectable sweets could be had in their perfection. It was in this same shop that they met the old gentleman. The encounter came about in this wise. Jack dropped a penny on the floor, and after groping for it under the counter, she came up in a dark corner and her head met the rotund middle of an old gentleman standing there. "Good gracious!" he exclaimed, fairly jumping in surprise as Jack crawled out.

"I hope I didn't hurt you," said Jack apologetically.

Then the old gentleman began to laugh, and said Jack afterward, "He was just like Santa Claus, for he shook like a bowlful of jelly. If I had known how far from his feet he stuck out in front I would have come out further along."

The laugh showed that he was not hurt, and Jack was so relieved that she laughed too. "Thought you'd knocked the breath out of me," said the old gentleman. "Well, I find I can breathe yet, though I wonder what made you come butting into me in that way. Are you a goat?"

"No," returned Jack; "I'm only a kid."

"Ho-ho! Ha-ha!" laughed the old gentleman. "That's pretty good. Come here, kid, and tell me which of the candies in those jars you think looks the most eatable."

Jack gravely scanned the jars. "I think that nutty kind looks best, don't you?" she said. "Unless you don't like nuts," she added.

"Very fond of 'em. I'll take a couple of pounds." He designated to the woman in charge the jar Jack had pointed out and when the candy was weighed he handed it to the child.

"But—but——" began Jack in surprise.

"But—but; that's just what you did to me." And again the old gentleman went off into a paroxysm of laughter in which Jack again joined, partly from pleasure at receiving the candy, and partly because the old gentleman's laugh was very contagious.

"I didn't suppose you liked it so well," said Jack when she had regained her gravity. "I didn't think you enjoyed it so much that you would want to pay me for butting you."

The old man's "Ho-ho!" again sounded forth, but he put up a protesting hand. "Here, here, that's enough," he said. "I haven't laughed so much for a month of Sundays. What's your name, kid?"

"Jack Corner."

"Jack Horner? Then you're fond of plums and Christmas pies. You are making fun of me, I'm afraid. Whoever heard of a girl being named Jack Horner. Now if you had said little Miss Muffet or Margery Daw I might have believed you."

"I'd rather be one of those than little Nan Etticoat, for she had a red nose," returned Jack. "But I didn't say Jack Horner. My name is Jacqueline Corner; they call me Jack for short. That's my sister Nan over there."

"Oh, she is Nan Etticoat, then, but I don't see that her nose is red nor her petticoats very short. Tell her to come over here. My name is Nicholas Pinckney."

"I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick," quoted Jack glibly with mischief in her eyes.

Mr. Pinckney pinched her ear. "Oh, you are a little baggage," he said. "Go along and bring your sister."

Jack straightway brought Nan over to where her new friend stood. "This is my sister, Nan," she began gravely, "Mr.—Mr. St. Nicholas——" she laughed merrily.

"Oh, you mischief," said the gentleman shaking a playful finger at her. "I know why you call me that. I am named Nicholas, as it happens, Miss Nan, Nicholas Pinckney. Now, young ladies, I want you to help me select a box of goodies for a lady. She happens to be my daughter, and though it is some time since she was a little girl she likes sweets and I want to take some to her. I am sure she will like what you can select better than any I might choose."

This was a pleasant task, and both girls entered into it with zest, so that the large box looked very tempting when it was filled. "Now send this to me." Mr. Pinckney gave his name and the hotel at which he was stopping.

"Why, that is where we are," said Jack.

"Is that so?" returned Mr. Pinckney. "I am glad to hear it, for now I can have company on the way there."

"We are only going to stay a few hours longer," Jack informed him. "We were going this morning." And then she told him of the reasons of the delay, which tale brought forth more merriment from her listener.

"And where are you going from here?" he asked, and when Nan told him he exclaimed, "Why, bless my soul, I am going to Los Angeles myself; that is where my daughter lives. I believe I will take the afternoon train. I was going to stay over till to-morrow, but I wouldn't miss a journey with the kid for a good deal. Come, let us walk up, you youngsters, so I can get my bill paid and my dunnage stored in my grip." He puffed and blew so that by the time the hotel was reached he could scarce utter a word and disappeared into one of the corridors on the first floor without anything more than a smile and a wave of the hand.

The two girls rushed to find their mother. "We've met the nicest man," they cried as they entered her room. "Just see all this candy he bought us."

"Why, my dears," Mrs. Corner looked half disapproval, "who was it?"

"He is Mr. St. Nick Pinckney," Jack informed her, "and he is a darling if he is fat, isn't he, Nan?"

"Yes, he is," Nan endorsed the opinion, "and he is going just where we are. We met him by accident, mother." And she told the tale of the encounter.

"If that isn't Jack all over," exclaimed Mrs. Corner. "I believe she would find an adventure in the most impossible of places. I don't exactly approve of your picking up acquaintances, children; it isn't always safe when you are traveling."

"Oh, but he is perfectly safe; I know he is," Nan assured her; "he wouldn't hurt a kitten, and you will say so when you have seen him. He is so jolly and has such a pleasant face. You and Aunt Helen will like him, I know. It was an awfully nice way to pass away the time; going for pralines, I mean, not butting over old gentlemen. We saw some more queer streets and Mr. Pinckney pointed out several interesting places to us. Are the pralines good, Aunt Helen?"

"They are delicious. Help yourselves, dearies;" she held out the box to the girls, "and then gather up your belongings, for we must start in season this time and before Jack is spirited away again."

"I'd like to watch for Mr. Pinckney," remarked Jack.

"No, not out of my sight for a second may you go," said Mrs. Corner. "This Mr. St. Nick may carry you off to Snowland for all I know, and I won't see you again till he puts you in my stocking next Christmas."

So Jack remained by her mother's side; but as they passed down the stairs and into the carriage she whispered to Nan: "I don't believe he is coming."

"I'm afraid he isn't," returned Nan in the same low tone. "Perhaps he couldn't get packed up in time."

But when they reached the railway station there he was, his portliness not preventing him from keeping on the trot, sending porters hither and thither, and seeing that the whole Corner party was comfortably established. He settled Jack in a seat by his side and evidently looked forward to being furnished with entertainment by that young person, and, indeed, Jack was quite equal to what was expected of her, though Mr. Pinckney did his share in making himself agreeable to her, and the two chattered away like old friends. What Mr. Pinckney did not learn about the Corner family that day he did before the journey was ended.

"We used to be as poor as church mice," Jack informed him confidentially. "That was before grandmother died. She quarreled with my father and when he died she marched off to Europe and took all her money with her so mother couldn't find a bit of it. Aunt Helen came back first and saw Nan and Nan made friends with her, though Aunt Sarah—you don't know Aunt Sarah Dent, she's mother's aunt and she couldn't bear Grandma Corner. Well, she just made an awful fuss and wouldn't let Nan go over to Uplands at all. Nan snuck off, though, and Aunt Sarah was as mad as hops. She shut Nan up and Nan fell down-stairs and broke her arm and then Uplands burned down and grandmother had to come to our house where she died." Jack took a long breath after her gallop through these annals of family history. Then she went on again:

"Mother was up in the Adirondacks and Aunt Sarah was keeping house and looking after us children, but mother came back and Aunt Helen went shares with us; her mother said she must, so Jean and I don't have to wear Nan's and Mary Lee's old clothes any more. This is a brand new coat and so is the hat. Don't you think they are pretty? Jean's are just the same, only Jean has a blue hair-ribbon and I have a brown one; we are twins, you know. Jean always calls us trins; she can't say twins, nor twice, nor queen, nor any such words. She gets her tongue twisted over them, she says. We are going to dress just alike till we are in our teens, and then mother says we are not to, for she doesn't like to see big girls dress the same. I think, too, I would rather not, then, though I don't mind it now."

"Why not now?" asked Mr. Pinckney to encourage her to keep up her chatter.

"Because," Jack leaned nearer to whisper, "if I can't find my things I can put on Jean's and no one knows the difference."

Mr. Pinckney shook his head. "That's not square, you know," he said.

"Oh, isn't it?" Jack considered the matter carefully, then she asked: "Why?"

"Because it is deceiving, you see. You are making others think it is yours when it isn't, and beside, if your sister came to look for her things and couldn't find them it would give her some trouble and annoyance; we should spare our friends that when we can."

"All right; I won't do it again," said Jack cheerfully. Then hastily changing the subject she said, "Nan's awfully smart. She can do all sorts of things. You ought just to hear her play on the piano and see what she can contrive out of nothing. I just love Nan."

"And don't you love the others?"

"Of course. Jean is my twin and I am bound to love her, but Mary Lee always pushes me on to scrapes somehow and Nan gets me out of them. I am always getting into scrapes like sticking in the elevator, you know. I fell into the pig-pen once."

Mr. Pinckney's "Ho-ho," rang forth at this and he leaned forward to say to Mrs. Corner: "She is a most amusing child, this little Jack of yours."

"Don't let her bore you," returned Mrs. Corner.

"Bore me? Faith, madam, I was never so interested in my life." He turned again to Jack.

"Did you ever get into scrapes when you were little?" asked Jack.

"I got into many and many a one, but I had no sister Nan to help me out."

"What did you do then?"

"I wriggled out the best way I could. You needn't look at me in that speculative way. I wasn't so fat as I am now. I was no bigger than you at the same age."

Jack immediately jumped up and clapped her hands upon that part of her person just below her waist line. "Oh," she exclaimed in alarm, "do you suppose I'll ever—I'll ever—look like St. Nick?"

"Never," returned Mr. Pinckney, his laugh ringing out again. "Don't be alarmed; I'm sure that affliction doesn't run in your family."

"Were your scrapes very bad?" asked Jack sitting down again after this assurance.

"Pretty bad, sometimes," was the reply.

"I'm awfully glad." Jack really looked pleased.

"You little sinner! I suppose you have a fellow feeling."

"Did you have brothers, and were their scrapes never so bad as yours?"

"I must confess to being the one who was generally in a pickle, and my brothers never did manage to get into such holes as I did."

"Good!" cried Jack. "Then you were just like me and I like you better than ever."

"That is some compensation," laughed the old gentleman. "Perhaps if I had known in those long ago days, what the future held for me in the frank liking of Jack Corner I might not have been as disturbed as I often was."

"Did they—did they ever put you to bed without your supper?" Jack asked after some thought.

"Often and often."

Jack snuggled closer to him. "Did they ever—spank you?" she said in an awed whisper.

The answer was whispered back. "Don't tell anybody, but I was spanked at least once a week."

Jack regarded him with increasing interest. "That's more than mine," she told him. "It never happened that often to me, for only Aunt Sarah believes in it; mother doesn't."

"Unfortunately it was my father who did."

Jack gave a long sigh. "That must have been pretty bad, but you don't mind it now, do you?" she said as she cuddled her hand in her friend's.

"Not a bit," he assured her.

"That's nice; I should have felt badly if you did. Let's talk about something else."

"Gladly," returned Mr. Pinckney with a twinkle in his eye.

"I just want to say," Jack went on, "that I shall probably never have any more, for Aunt Sarah isn't here with us and when we get back home mother will be there, too; besides I am too big." Having disposed of the subject in this comfortable way she felt that she had made a frank avowal to Mr. Pinckney and had placed herself above any future suspicions on his part, when punishments might be darkly mentioned.

The presence of the genial old gentleman did much toward adding pleasure to the trip for the entire party, as he was continually buying magazines, and illustrated papers for them all, was always alert in sending the porter for any comfort, had his head out of the window the moment they stopped at the larger stations, ready to hail any passing vendor of commodities in the direction of food or drink, so that they all fell into the habit of calling him Mr. St. Nick, and declared that they were as well off as if traveling with their grandfather.

"You see, unfortunately, I have no grandchildren of my own," he explained to Mrs. Corner, "and I do enjoy these young folks of yours immensely." He dubbed Jack, the Kid, Jean, the Trin, Nan was Zephyr, Zeph for short, and Mary Lee was Prisms, for he said she represented "Propriety, prunes and prisms."

With these newly acquired names they arrived at San Diego where they parted from the old gentleman who was going on to where his daughter lived in Los Angeles, and where they expected to see him later when they had taken their fill of San Diego County.