An Idyl of a Chicken Ranch [pp. 482-491]

AN IDYL OF A CHICKEN RANCH.
Sawyer framed in by clambering passion
vines.
"Thanks," he drawled, "just drop my
boxes at Freeman's, will you? I'I11 stop
here." And he swung himself down,
somewhat stiff from forty-five miles of
staging.
Although thickly covered with dust,
his English traveling suit had a trim look,
and as he came up the path with an
easy, swinging gait, he did not at all coincide with Mr. Sawyer's preconceived
notions of a blighted being.
"Well, well, Tom, glad to see you! I
never expected to find you this far away
from civilization." And he gave him a
cordial grasp of the hand.
"How do you do, Mr. Sawyer? By
Jove, I'm glad to get here. You have
planted yourself in the wilderness,
rather."
"Yes, it is n't exactly London, old
fellow, and staging's no joke, if you
don't go in for that sort of thing much.
Come in and cool off."
Tom sighed contentedly as he settled
himself behind the vines.
"This is luxury. Awfully hot and
dusty on the road, you know."
"When did you leave home?"
"Just three weeks ago. It was so
rough coming across. I had n't recovered
when 1 got into New York, so I came
straight through to get the whole trip
done with. Jove, this is a big country
you've got here! Don't see how you
ever found this little corner of it. Home
folks?- 0, they're all well, and bearing up bravely under the loss of the pride
of the family. Father is at the bank just
the same as ever, and mother still goes
in for her parish school. She's looking
after some free reading rooms, too, now.
Herb has his commission at last and
sailed for India a month ago."
"And how about Tom?"
"Tom? Well, Tom has come to Cal
ifornia for his health, don't you know."
And he laughed under his mustache, as
he rose to meet Mlrs. Sawyer.
"Why, Tom, I'm very glad to see
you. Yes," following the look in his
eyes,- "they all belong to me. This
is baby,- bless his dirty little face,- this
is Reginald, this James, this Francis,
and the rest are out in the orchard."
"All named with expectations, I see,
Mrs. Sawyer," he commented, with a
twinkle in his eye.
"You are too clever by half. I shall
punish you with a cup of tea."
"Thank you, but I must toddle up to
Freeman's and look after my boxes. I
saw your mother just before I left, and
she sent a lot of things to you. I had
hard work convincing the customs-officers
I was in the habit of wearing aprons and
number six gloves."
" Jack, dear," she said, as Tom disappeared down the road, "it can't be a
sweetheart, can it? He's too jolly and
and neat."
"Does n't seem much like it, little
woman. Maybe you were wrong for
once."
"It will really be very pleasant to
have him here, and since there are no
young ladies but the entirely too impossible ones, I fancy he's safe. 0, yes,
quite so."
IF TOM Harris had been disappointed
in love, he was extremely philosophical,
and accepted his fate cheerfully. The
country life fascinated him. He liked to
sit in Sawyer's store to watch the country people, and listen to their talk, in
which miner's slang, stray Spanish
phrases, and Western barbarisms, jostled
each other familiarly. He found much
quiet amusement in the Indians, lounging on the porch, silent, lazy, and contented; in the squaws exchanging their
money, earned by washing for the white
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