CHAPTER XXXVI.
More News From Little Wolf—Tom Tinknor's Testimony.
ere again is news from Little Wolf. The postmark is San Francisco; a few hurried lines running thus:
"We arrived here last evening. Mr. Marsden has the Panama fever. His sister and myself watch over him day and night. His physician is hopeful, but says the disease is exceedingly tedious. We shall probably be detained here for a long time.
Please write as soon as you receive this. I am anxious to hear from Daddy and Fanny.
Your affectionate
Little Wolf."
From Mrs. Tinknor's answer we extract the following:
"As we had not heard from Daddy for some time, I persuaded Tom to go down and see how they were getting along. He has just returned and stands ready to relieve your anxiety. I will leave him to give an account of affairs in his own language."
"I am requested to give my testimony which is this: The house was in apple-pie order. Not a fly had the temerity to approach the parlor. Miss Fanny had learned to knit, and had constructed a pair of stockings. Mrs. Recta says if she lives she will make a good housekeeper. I shall marry her when she is old enough. The old folks are sure she will die 'afore the year is out, 'cause a bird flew in at her winder.' I told them the bird was after Daddy, and the superstitious old man was instantly seized with a violent pain in his big toe. I am afraid he will feel it is his duty to die. He and Recta bill and coo like two old fools.
I am ready to swear to the above testimony.
T. T.
P. S. Daddy saw six ghosts last evening in the pasture where half a dozen sheep were grazing.
Tom."
"I am afraid, my dear, that Tom's nonsense has illy prepared your mind for the sad news I have to communicate concerning your friends the Shermans. The elder and the younger Mrs. Sherman are both dead. The elder died last week; it is said of a broken heart. The other accidently put an end to her own life several weeks ago. She had parted from her husband, he having returned home several times intoxicated. Being in a very unhappy frame of mind in her father's house, she resorted to morphine to induce sleep, and, unaccustomed to its effects, swallowed an over dose. The mistake was discovered when too late to save her. It is said that Edward's remorse is fearful, and he has solemly sworn never to taste another drop of intoxicating drink. His home is now with Dr. Goodrich and his sister, who have commenced house-keeping in a nice little cottage."
Extract from Little Wolf's reply.
"Many thanks to Tom for his share of the letter. I hope he will frequently repeat his visits to Chimney Rock, and acquaint me with the results. It will discipline him for the work I shall assign him in my orphan asylum, and moreover I feel concerned about the pain in Daddy's big toe.
"All jesting aside, so many unforseen events have crowded into the months of my absense that I feel prepared for almost any change. It is well that I know that you will be a mother to Fanny in the event of any change in Daddy's family. According to Tom's account, he is to be her husband. I will draw a picture of their courtship for him.
"A slender, fair haired girl and a gallant youth seated—let me think—three feet apart in the grape arbor at the old brown house. Their eyes meet and speak a language quite familiar to gallant youths and fair haired girls in general, and to those two in particular. How prettily the white throat of the beautiful blonde swells, and how the frill of lace around it trembles, as if fanned by the passing breeze.
"They do not see the white haired old man who is silently gathering grapes without the arbor, occasionally peering cautiously through the vines and lattice work at them.
"He is a loquacious old fellow, (that Daddy) and he will doubtless complete the picture for us by and by.
"Mr. Marsden's fever has left him broken in health and spirits. His lungs have never been strong, having been subject to occasional hemorrhages. He complains of constant pain in his chest, and I fear it will be a long time before he recovers. His physician thinks it will not be safe for him to return home this fall, and we shall probably spend the winter in this mild climate.
"We have formed quite a pleasant circle of acquaintances, and our evenings are musical, conversational or gamical, as best suits the invalid, who lies upon the sofa and dictates the programme. Last evening we did nothing but talk. An editor of one of our city journals was present, having just returned from an extensive tour through the wine growing districts of the State. He says that wine making is fraught with dire evils to the producer and to the country. That it has become almost as cheap as milk, and as freely drank, till many once sober men are now habitually intoxicated. He was told that in one neighborhood, young girls seventeen years of age, reeled in the streets under the intoxication of pure California wine. Men whom he once knew to be of worth he found lost to society, and becoming a fear and disgrace to their families. One leading man whom he met, enumerated five of his acquaintances, who, once noble men, are now to be called drunkards through wine. He thinks that the production of the article, now fearfully on the increase, must become a curse to the whole land if persevered in.
"In going through the wine growing regions he found it expected, as an act of politeness, that wine must everywhere be presented and drank, and if he consented at all to drink, he would be compelled to drink many times a day, and would become a wine toper with others. He declared that touch not, taste not, handle not the accursed thing, was the only rule of safety.
"He said if each grape grower would grow only the raisin grape for sale, there would be no end to the profitable disposal of all which he could ever produce without sin or danger to any one.
"I remarked that European travellers told us that very few drank to intoxication in those places where wine was made from the pure juice of the grape, and it was generally supposed that the manufacture of pure domestic wine in this country would do away almost entirety with intemperance.
"In answer, he read us a letter which he had just received from his friend, a well known resident of this city now in France. It contained a flat contradiction of the statements to which I had alluded, and drew a dark picture of the intemperance in the wine producing districts of France and Germany. In fact, it was a radical plea—as Daddy would say—'agin the hull infarnel stuff.'"
