Selected Stories of Bret Harte eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 447 pages of information about Selected Stories of Bret Harte.

Selected Stories of Bret Harte eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 447 pages of information about Selected Stories of Bret Harte.

Hidden in the darkness, but still holding his hand, she went on: 

“It was a long time before I could get the hang of things about yer, for I was used to company and excitement.  I couldn’t get any woman to help me, and a man I dursen’t trust; but what with the Indians hereabout, who’d do odd jobs for me, and having everything sent from the North Fork, Jim and I managed to worry through.  The Doctor would run up from Sacramento once in a while.  He’d ask to see ‘Miggles’s baby,’ as he called Jim, and when he’d go away, he’d say, ’Miggles; you’re a trump—­God bless you’; and it didn’t seem so lonely after that.  But the last time he was here he said, as he opened the door to go, ’Do you know, Miggles, your baby will grow up to be a man yet and an honor to his mother; but not here, Miggles, not here!’ And I thought he went away sad—­and—­and—­” and here Miggles’s voice and head were somehow both lost completely in the shadow.

“The folks about here are very kind,” said Miggles, after a pause, coming a little into the light again.  “The men from the fork used to hang around here, until they found they wasn’t wanted, and the women are kind—­and don’t call.  I was pretty lonely until I picked up Joaquin in the woods yonder one day, when he wasn’t so high, and taught him to beg for his dinner; and then thar’s Polly—­that’s the magpie—­she knows no end of tricks, and makes it quite sociable of evenings with her talk, and so I don’t feel like as I was the only living being about the ranch.  And Jim here,” said Miggles, with her old laugh again, and coming out quite into the firelight, “Jim—­why, boys, you would admire to see how much he knows for a man like him.  Sometimes I bring him flowers, and he looks at ’em just as natural as if he knew ’em; and times, when we’re sitting alone, I read him those things on the wall.  Why, Lord!” said Miggles, with her frank laugh, “I’ve read him that whole side of the house this winter.  There never was such a man for reading as Jim.”

“Why,” asked the Judge, “do you not marry this man to whom you have devoted your youthful life?”

“Well, you see,” said Miggles, “it would be playing it rather low down on Jim, to take advantage of his being so helpless.  And then, too, if we were man and wife, now, we’d both know that I was bound to do what I do now of my own accord.”

“But you are young yet and attractive—­”

“It’s getting late,” said Miggles, gravely, “and you’d better all turn in.  Good night, boys”; and, throwing the blanket over her head, Miggles laid herself down beside Jim’s chair, her head pillowed on the low stool that held his feet, and spoke no more.  The fire slowly faded from the hearth; we each sought our blankets in silence; and presently there was no sound in the long room but the pattering of the rain upon the roof and the heavy breathing of the sleepers.

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Project Gutenberg
Selected Stories of Bret Harte from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.