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Title: Elder Conklin and Other Stories
Author: Frank Harris
Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7153] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on March 18, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELDER CONKLIN AND OTHER STORIES ***
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ELDER CONKLIN AND OTHER STORIES BY FRANK HARRISNew York
MACMILLAN AND CO.
AND LONDON1894
All rights reserved
COPYRIGHT, 1894,
BY MACMILLAN AND CO.
*
CONTENTS ELDER CONKLIN THE SHERIFF AND HIS PARTNER A MODERN IDYLLEATINâ CROW
THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTEGULMORE, THE BOSS
*
ELDER CONKLIN.
As soon as the Elder left the supper-table his daughter and the new schoolmaster went out on the stoop or verandah which ran round the frame-house. The day had been warm, but the chilliness of the evening air betokened the near approach of the Indian summer. The house stood upon the crest of what had been a roll in the prairie, and as the two leant together on the railing of the stoop, they looked out over a small orchard of peach-trees to where, a couple of hundred yards away, at the foot of the bluff, Cottonwood Creek ran, fringed on either bank by the trees which had suggested its name. On the horizon to their right, away beyond the spears of yellow maize, the sun was sinking, a ball of orange fire against the rose mist of the sky. When the girl turned towards him, perhaps to avoid the level rays, Bancroft expressed the hope that she would go with him to the house-warming. A little stiffly Miss Conklin replied that sheâd be pleased, butâ
âWhat have I done, Miss Loo, to offend you?â the young man spoke deprecatingly.
âNothinâ, I guess,â she answered, with assumed indifference.
âWhen I first came you were so kind and helped me in everything. Now for the last two or three days you seem cold and sarcastic, as if you were angry with me. Iâd be sorry if that were soâvery sorry.â
âWhy did you ask Jessie Stevens to go with you to the house-warminâ?â was the girlâs retort.
âI certainly didnât ask her,â he replied hotly. âYou must know I didnât.â
âThen Seth lied!â exclaimed Miss Conklin. âBut I guess heâll not try that again with meâSeth Stevens I mean. He wanted me to go with him to-night, and I didnât give him the mitten, as I should if Iâd thought you were goinâ to ask me.â
âWhat does âgiving the mittenâ mean?â he questioned, with a puzzled air.
âWhy, jest the plainest kind of refusal, I guess; but I only told him I was afraid Iâd have to go with you, seeinâ you were a stranger. âAfraid,ââ she repeated, as if the word stung her. âBut heâll lose nothinâ by waitinâ, nothinâ. You hear me talk.â And her eyes flashed.
As she drew herself up in indignation, Bancroft thought he had never seen any one so lovely. âA perfect Hebe,â he said to himself, and started as if he had said the words aloud. The comparison was apt. Though Miss Loo Conklin was only seventeen, her figure had all the ripeness of womanhood, and her heightâa couple of inches above the averageâhelped to make her look older than she was. Her face was more than pretty; it was, in fact, as beautiful as youth, good features, and healthy colouring could make it. A knotted mass of chestnut hair set off the shapely head: the large blue eyes were deepened by dark lashes. The underlip, however, was a little full, and the oval of the face through short curve of jaw a trifle too round. Her companion tried in vain to control the admiration of his gaze. Unelated by what she felt to be merely her due, Miss Conklin was silent for a time. At length she observed:
âI guess Iâll have to go and fix up.â
Just then the Elder appeared on the stoop. âEf youâre goinâ,â he said in the air, as his daughter swept past him into the house, âyouâd better hitch Jack up to the light buggy.â
âThank you,â said the schoolmaster; and for the sake of saying something, he added, âWhat a fine view.â The Elder paused but did not answer; he saw nothing remarkable in the landscape except the Indian corn and the fruit, and the words âfine viewâ conveyed no definite meaning to him; he went on towards the stables.
The taciturnity of the Elder annoyed Bancroft excessively. He had now passed a couple of weeks as a boarder with the Conklins, and the Elderâs unconscious rudeness was only one of many peculiarities that had brought him to regard these Western folk as belonging almost to a distinct species. George Bancroft was an ordinary middle-class Bostonian. He had gone through the University course with rather more than average success, and had the cant of unbounded intellectual sympathies. His self-esteem, however, was not based chiefly on his intelligence, but on the ease with which he reached a conventional standard of conduct. Not a little of his character showed itself in his appearance. In figure he was about the middle height, and strongly though sparely built. The head was well-proportioned; the face a lean oval; the complexion sallow; the hair and small moustache very dark; the brown eyes inexpressive and close-set, revealing a tendency to suspiciousnessâBancroft prided himself on his prudence. A certain smartness of dress and a conscious carriage discovered a vanity which, in an older man, would have been fatuous. A large or a sensitive nature would in youth, at least, have sought unconsciously to bring itself into sympathy with strange surroundings, but Bancroft looked upon those who differed from him in manners or conduct as inferior, and this presumption in regard to the Conklins was strengthened by his superiority in book-learning, the importance of which he had been trained to over-estimate.
During their drive Miss Conklin made her companion talk of Eastern life; she wanted to know what Chicago was like, and what people did in New York. Stirred by her eager curiosity, Bancroft sketched both cities in hasty outline, and proceeded to tell what he had read and heard of Paris, and Rome, and London. But evidently the girl was not interested by his praise of the art-life of European capitals or their historical associations; she cut short his disquisition:
âSee here! When I first seed you anâ knew you was raised in Boston, anâ had lived in New York, I jest thought you no account for cominâ to this jumpinâ-off place. Why did you come to Kansas, anyway, and what did you reckon upon doinâ? I guess you ainât goinâ to teach school always.â
The young man flushed under the frankness of the girlâs gaze and question, and what appeared like contempt in her opinion of him. Again he became painfully conscious that there was a wide social difference between Miss Conklin and himself. He had been accustomed to more reticence, and such direct questioning seemed impertinent. But he was so completely under the spell of her beauty, that he answered with scarcely visible hesitation:
âI came out here because I wanted to study law, and wasnât rich enough to do it in the East. This school was the first position offered to me. I had to take it, but I intend, after a term or two, to find a place in a lawyerâs office in some town, and get admitted to practice. If Iâd had fifteen hundred dollars I could have done that in Boston or New York, but I suppose it will all come right in time.â
âIf Iâd been you Iâd have stayed in New York,â and then, clasping her hands on her knee, and looking intently before her, she added, âWhen I get to New Yorkâanâ that wonât be longâIâll stay there, you bet! I guess New Yorkâs good enough for me. Thereâs style there,â and she nodded her head decisively as she spoke.
Miss Loo and Bancroft were among the latest arrivals at the Morrisesâ. She stood beside him while he hitched Jack to a post of the fence amidst a crowd of other horses, and they entered the house together. In due form she presented the schoolmaster to Mr. and Mrs. Morris, and smilingly produced three linen tablecloths as her contribution to the warming. After accepting the present with profuse thanks and unmeasured praise of it and of the giver, Mrs. Morris conducted the newcomers across the passage into the best sitting-room, which the young folk had already appropriated, leaving the second-best room to their elders.
In the small square apartment were some twenty boys and girls, ranging between sixteen and twenty-two years of age. The boys stood about at one end of the room, while the girls sat at the other end chattering and enjoying themselves. Bancroft did not go among those of his own sex, none of whom he knew, and whom he set down as mere uncouth lads. He found it more amusing to stand near the girls and talk with them. By so doing he unconsciously offended the young men.
Presently a tall youth came towards them:
âI guess weâd better play somethinâ?â
âForfeits! Mr. Stevens,â was a girlâs quick reply, and it was arranged to play forfeits in a queer educational fashion. First of all Mr. Stevens left the room, presumably to think. When he came in again he went over to Miss Conklin and asked her to spell âforgive.â After a momentâs pause she spelt it correctly. He retired slowly, and on his return stopped again in front of Miss Conklin with the word âreconciliation.â She withstood the test triumphantly. Annoyed apparently with the pains she took, Mr. Stevens, on his next entrance, turned to a pretty, quiet girl named Miss Black, and gave her âstranger,â with a glance at Bancroft, which spread a laugh among the boys. Miss Black began with âstrai,â and was not allowed to go on, for Mr. Stevens at once offered his arm, and led her into the passage.
âWhat takes place outside?â asked Bancroft confidentially of the girl sitting nearest to him, who happened to be Miss Jessie Stevens. She replied with surprise:
âI guess they kiss each other!â
âAh!âNow I understand,â he said to himself, and from that moment followed the proceedings
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