But anon at some chance word of blame and criticism from Miss Meechim, makin’ light of his City of Justice and its inhabitants, a light blazed up in his eyes and lit up his face, some as a fire in our open fireplace lights up the spare-room, and I see stand out for a minute on the background of his fair handsome face a picture of heroism, love, endeavor that fairly stunted me for a time. And I never felt afterwards anything but perfect confidence in him; no matter how light and trifling wuz his talk with Dorothy, or how gay and boyishly happy wuz his clear laughter.
He had worked well and faithful, givin’ his hull mind and heart to his endeavor to do all the good he could, and now he wuz bound to play well, and git all the good and rest he could out of his play spell. And I hadn’t been with ’em more’n several hours before I thought that I had seen further into his heart and hopes and intentions than Miss Meechim had in all her born days.
Robert Strong, before he went away, invited us all to go and see his City of Justice, and we agreed with considerable satisfaction to do so, or at least I did and I spoze the rest did. Miss Meechim would be happy in any place where her nephew wuz, that you could see plain, as much as she disapproved of his methods. Dorothy, I couldn’t see so plain what she did think, she bein’ one that didn’t always let her lips say everything her heart felt, but she used Robert real polite, and we all had a real agreeable visit.
Robert got a big carriage and took us all out driving that afternoon, Miss Meechim and I settin’ on the back seat, and Robert and Dorothy facing us, and Tommy 67 perched on Robert’s knee; Tommy jest took to him, and visey-versey. Robert thought he wuz just about the brightest little boy he had ever seen, and Tommy sot there, a little pale but happy, and wonnered about things, and Robert answered all his “wonners” so fur as he could.
We drove through beautiful streets lined with elegant houses, and the dooryards wuz a sight. Think of my little scraggly geraniums and oleanders and cactuses I’ve carried round in my hands all winter and been proud on. And then think of geranium and oleander trees just as common as our maples and loaded with flowers. And palm and bananna trees, little things we brood over in our houses in the winter, and roses that will look spindlin’ with me, do the best I can, in December, all growin’ out-doors fillin’ the air with fragrance.
Robert Strong said we must go to the Cliff House, and Tommy wanted to see the seals.
Poor things! I felt bad to see ’em and to think there wuz a war of extermination tryin’ to be waged aginst ’em, because they interfered with the rights of a few. One of the most interesting animals on the Western continent! It seems too bad they’re tryin’ to wipe ’em out of existence because the fishermen say they eat a sammon now and then. Why shouldn’t they who more than half belong to the water-world once in a great while have a little taste of the good things of that world as well as to have ’em all devoured by the inhabitants of dry land? And they say that the seals eat sharks too––I should think that that paid for all the good fish they eat. But to resoom. Tommy didn’t think of the rights or the wrongs of the seals, he had no disquietin’ thoughts to mar his anticipations, but he wonnered if he could put his hands through ’em like he could his ma’s seal muff. He thought that they wuz muffs, silk lined––the idee! And he “wonnered” a sight when he see the great peaceable lookin’ creeters down in the water and on the rocks, havin’ a good time, so fur as we could see, in their 68 own world, and mindin’ their own bizness; not tryin’ to git ashore and kill off the fishermen, because they ketched so many sammons. And Tommy had to feed the seals and do everything he could do, Robert Strong helpin’ him in everything he undertook, and he “wonnered” if they would ever be changed into muffs, and he “wonnered” if they would like to be with “ribbon bows on.”
At my request we went through Lone Mountain Cemetery, a low mountain rising from the sandy beach full of graves shaded by beautiful trees and myriads of flowers bending over the silent sleepers, the resistless sea washing its base on one side––just as the sea of Death is washing up aginst one side of Life––no matter how gay and happy it is.
We rode home through a magnificent park of two thousand acres. Money had turned the sandy beach into a wealth of green lawns, beautiful trees and myriads of flowers. I had always sposed that them Eastern Genis in the “Arabian Nights” had palaces and things about as grand and luxurious as they make, but them old Genis could have got lots of pinters in luxury and grand surroundin’s if they’d seen the homes of these nabobs in the environins of San Francisco. No tongue can tell the luxury and elegance of them abodes, and so I hain’t a goin’ to git out of patience with my tongue if it falters and gins out in the task.