“Oh, don’t!” exclaimed Mrs. Burnham. “I am so angry already that I could burn up every rum-cask in town, and, I had almost said, these brutes with it.”
“But don’t forget this, Mrs. Burnham: we are on a mission of strategy. We are not the political equals of these men, and every sign of anger you show, betrays your impotence to help yourself, and weakens our chance of success. Here we are at the next saloon. Now do be calm, Mrs. Burnham.”
It was a long and arduous task, but at last, without flagging, they finished the rounds. A great number of the liquor dealers promised to cease selling intoxicating drinks to those known as drunkards, or to make an exception in the case of Dan and young Burnham. Clara often asked them to promise “upon their honor,” which always flattered a certain class of these men.
It was a good lesson in woman’s rights to these women who went with Clara, and it greatly increased their admiration for her personally. The effort did much more good than they expected; for though Dan, young Burnham, and others, occasionally went home intoxicated, the occurrence was rare, and gave Dan a chance to follow up his father’s treatment and recover his health. The doctor, in the count’s absence, had the full control of the works over the river, and after a month or so, Dan went daily with his father, and becoming interested, did good service, in the preparation of the parks and gardens.
Mrs. Forest was very grateful that Clara had persuaded her to go on that “terrible excursion,” as she called it. “You are a noble girl, Clara,” she said, with expansion, “and I feel that I have not always been just to you. If I had my life to live over again, I should do many things differently.”
“Oh, mother dear,” Clara replied, embracing her, “you have done the best you could. Clara has no fault to find with her mamma;” and seizing her mother in a weak moment, asked her, as a great favor, to attend the coming convention!
“Well,” said Mrs. Forest, resignedly, “I will go. There can be no harm in it. Many of our most respectable people have signed the call. But,” she added, with a sudden sign of terror, “you don’t suppose I should be called on to sit on the platform, or offer a resolution or anything, do you?” Clara laughed. “Oh no, mamma. There will be no backwardness on the part of women, to do all that is required. I myself am going to read an address.”
“You, Clara! Well. I begin to believe it is ‘written,’ as the count says, that you are to do everything you set out to do. I might as well yield at discretion. The prospect of some time seeing you on a woman’s-rights platform used to be my nightmare. That also is ‘written,’ you see.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
PROGRESS OF THE WORK.
During the spring and summer the work over the river went on so grandly and surely, that the most skeptical doubted no longer that the great enterprise would be accomplished. Bricks, of many shapes and colors and forms, were ready by hundreds of thousands. The forest was laid out in broad winding avenues, according to the plan; the water-main from the lake was laid, the sewers and drains leading to the river in their places, the great subterranean galleries for ventilation constructed, the cellars completed, and the broad stone foundations of the immense palace and buildings were all completed. Every mail from France brought letters from the count giving the most minute directions, and so harmoniously did everything work, that scarcely a day’s labor was lost by any change of details in the plan. The bridge had been completed long ago, and Oakdale was well pleased with the light, elegant structure placed there as if by enchantment. For when the piers were laid, the railroad disgorged at the station, one evening, a quantity of strange-looking iron-ware, every part made exactly for its place and fitted to its neighbor part. Some strangers, men from the Phœnix Works, accompanied the charge, and in an incredibly short space of time, lo! the bridge was laid and carriages bearing curious visitors and heavy carts were passing over it. The jocose Social Palace laborers declared that they passed over the river to their work in paddle-boats one morning, and at night returned by the bridge!