MIGGLES
We were eight, including the driver. We had not spoken during thepassage of the last six miles, since the jolting of the heavy vehicleover the roughening road had spoiled the Judge's last poeticalquotation. The tall man beside the Judge was asleep, his arm passedthrough the swaying strap and his head resting upon it--altogether alimp, helpless-looking object, as if he had hanged himself and been cutdown too late. The French lady on the back seat was asleep, too, yet ina half-conscious propriety of attitude, shown even in the dispositionof the handkerchief which she held to her forehead and which partiallyveiled her face. The lady from Virginia City, traveling with herhusband, had long since lost all individuality in a wild confusion ofribbons, veils, furs, and shawls. There was no sound but the rattlingof wheels and the dash of rain upon the roof. Suddenly the stage stoppedand we became dimly aware of voices. The driver was evidently in themidst of an exciting colloquy with someone in the road--a colloquy ofwhich such fragments as "bridge gone," "twenty feet of water," "can'tpass," were occasionally distinguishable above the storm. Then camea lull, and a mysterious voice from the road shouted the partingadjuration:
"Try Miggles's."
We caught a glimpse of our leaders as the vehicle slowly turned, of ahorseman vanishing through the rain, and we were evidently on our way toMiggles's.
Who and where was Miggles? The Judge, our authority, did not rememberthe name, and he knew the country thoroughly. The Washoe travelerthought Miggles must keep a hotel. We only knew that we were stopped byhigh water in front and rear, and that Miggles was our rock of refuge.A ten minutes splashing through a tangled by-road, scarcely wide enoughfor the stage, and we drew up before a barred and boarded gate in awide stone wall or fence about eight feet high. Evidently Miggles's, andevidently Miggles did not keep a hotel.
The driver got down and tried the gate. It was securely locked. "Miggles!O Miggles!"
No answer.
"Migg-ells! You Miggles!" continued the driver, with rising wrath.
"Migglesy!" joined the expressman, persuasively. "O Miggy! Mig!"
But no reply came from the apparently insensate Miggles. The Judge,who had finally got the window down, put his head out and propoundeda series of questions, which if answered categorically would haveundoubtedly elucidated the whole mystery, but which the driver evaded byreplying that "if we didn't want to sit in the coach all night, we hadbetter rise up and sing out for Miggles."
So we rose up and called on Miggles in chorus; then separately. And whenwe had finished, a Hibernian fellow-passenger from the roof called for"Maygells!" whereat we all laughed. While we were laughing, the drivercried "Shoo!"
We listened. To our infinite amazement the chorus of "Miggles" wasrepeated from the other side of the wall, even to the final andsupplemental "Maygells."
"Extraordinary echo," said the Judge.
"Extraordinary damned skunk!" roared the driver, contemptuously. "Comeout of that, Miggles, and show yourself! Be a man, Miggles! Don't hidein the dark; I wouldn't if I were you, Miggles," continued Yuba Bill,now dancing about in an excess of fury.
"Miggles!" continued the voice. "O Miggles!"
"My good man! Mr. Myghail!" said the Judge, softening the asperities ofthe name as much as possible. "Consider the inhospitality of refusingshelter from the inclemency of the weather to helpless females. Really,my dear sir--" But a succession of "Miggles," ending in a burst oflaughter, drowned his voice.
Yuba Bill hesitated no longer. Taking a heavy stone from the road, hebattered down the gate, and with the expressman entered the enclosure.We followed. Nobody was to be seen. In the gathering darkness all thatwe could distinguish was that we were in a garden--from the rosebushesthat scattered over us a minute spray from their dripping leaves--andbefore a long, rambling wooden building.
"Do you know this Miggles?" asked the Judge of Yuba Bill.
"No, nor, don't want to," said Bill, shortly, who felt the Pioneer StageCompany insulted in his person by the contumacious Miggles.
"But, my dear sir," expostulated the Judge as he thought of the barredgate.
"Lookee here," said Yuba Bill, with fine irony, "hadn't you better goback and sit in the coach till yer introduced? I'm going in," and hepushed open the door of the building.
A long room lighted only by the embers of a fire that was dying on thelarge hearth at its farther extremity; the walls curiously papered, andthe flickering firelight bringing out its grotesque pattern; somebodysitting in a large armchair by the fireplace. All this we saw as wecrowded together into the room, after the driver and expressman.
"Hello, be you Miggles?" said Yuba Bill to the solitary occupant.
The figure neither spoke nor stirred. Yuba Bill walked wrathfully towardit, and turned the eye of his coach lantern upon its face. It was aman's face, prematurely old and wrinkled, with very large eyes, in whichthere was that expression of perfectly gratuitous solemnity which I hadsometimes seen in an owl's. The large eyes wandered from Bill's faceto the lantern, and finally fixed their gaze on that luminous object,without further recognition.
Bill restrained himself with an effort.
"Miggles! Be you deaf? You ain't dumb anyhow, you know"; and Yuba Billshook the insensate figure by the shoulder.
To our great dismay, as Bill removed his hand, the venerablestranger apparently collapsed--sinking into half his size and anundistinguishable heap of clothing.
"Well, dern my skin," said Bill, looking appealingly at us, andhopelessly retiring from the contest.
The Judge now stepped forward, and we lifted the mysterious invertebrateback into his original position. Bill was dismissed with the lantern toreconnoiter outside, for it was evident that from the helplessness ofthis solitary man there must be attendants near at hand, and we alldrew around the fire. The Judge, who had regained his authority, and hadnever lost his conversational amiability--standing before us with hisback to the hearth--charged us, as an imaginary jury, as follows:
"It is evident that either our distinguished friend here has reachedthat condition described by Shakespeare as 'the sere and yellow leaf,'or has suffered some premature abatement of his mental and physicalfaculties. Whether he is really the Miggles--"
Here he was interrupted by "Miggles! O Miggles! Migglesy! Mig!" and, infact, the whole chorus of Miggles in very much the same key as it hadonce before been delivered unto us.
We gazed at each other for a moment in some alarm. The Judge, inparticular, vacated his position quickly, as the voice seemed to comedirectly over his shoulder. The cause, however, was soon discovered ina large magpie who was perched upon a shelf over the fireplace, andwho immediately relapsed into a sepulchral silence which contrastedsingularly with his previous volubility. It was, undoubtedly, his voicewhich we had heard in the road, and our friend in the chair was notresponsible for the discourtesy. Yuba Bill, who re-entered the roomafter an unsuccessful search, was loath to accept the explanation, andstill eyed the helpless sitter with suspicion. He had found a shed inwhich he had put up his horses, but he came back dripping and skeptical."Thar ain't nobody but him within ten mile of the shanty, and that 'ardamned old skeesicks knows it."
But the faith of the majority proved to be securely based. Bill hadscarcely ceased growling before we heard a quick step upon the porch,the trailing of a wet skirt, the door was flung open, and with flash ofwhite teeth, a sparkle of dark eyes, and an utter absence of ceremony ordiffidence, a young woman entered, shut the door, and, panting, leanedback against it.
"Oh, if you please, I'm Miggles!"
And this was Miggles! this bright-eyed, full-throated young woman, whosewet gown of coarse blue stuff could not hide the beauty of the femininecurves to which it clung; from the chestnut crown of whose head, toppedby a man's oilskin sou'wester, to the little feet and ankles, hiddensomewhere in the recesses of her boy's brogans, all was grace--this wasMiggles, laughing at us, too, in the most airy, frank, offhand mannerimaginable.
"You see, boys," said she, quite out of brea
th, and holding one littlehand against her side, quite unheeding the speechless discomfiture ofour party, or the complete demoralization of Yuba Bill, whosefeatures had relaxed into an expression of gratuitous and imbecilecheerfulness--"you see, boys, I was mor'n two miles away when you passeddown the road. I thought you might pull up here, and so I ran thewhole way, knowing nobody was home but Jim,--and--and--I'm out ofbreath--and--that lets me out."
And here Miggles caught her dripping oilskin hat from her head, witha mischievous swirl that scattered a shower of raindrops over us;attempted to put back her hair; dropped two hairpins in the attempt;laughed and sat down beside Yuba Bill, with her hands crossed lightly onher lap.
The Judge recovered himself first, and essayed an extravagantcompliment.
"I'll trouble you for that thar harpin," said Miggles, gravely. Halfa dozen hands were eagerly stretched forward; the missing hairpin wasrestored to its fair owner; and Miggles, crossing the room, lookedkeenly in the face of the invalid. The solemn eyes looked back at herswith an expression we had never seen before. Life and intelligenceseemed to struggle back into the rugged face. Miggles laughed again--itwas a singularly eloquent laugh--and turned her black eyes and whiteteeth once more toward us.
"This afflicted person is--" hesitated the Judge.
"Jim," said Miggles.
"Your father?"
"No."
"Brother?"
"No."
"Husband?"
Miggles darted a quick, half-defiant glance at the two lady passengerswho I had noticed did not participate in the general masculineadmiration of Miggles, and said gravely, "No; it's Jim."
There was an awkward pause. The lady passengers moved closer to eachother; the Washoe husband looked abstractedly at the fire; and thetall man apparently turned his eyes inward for self-support at thisemergency. But Miggles's laugh, which was very infectious, broke thesilence. "Come," she said briskly, "you must be hungry. Who'll bear ahand to help me get tea?"
She had no lack of volunteers. In a few moments Yuba Bill was engagedlike Caliban in bearing logs for this Miranda; the expressman wasgrinding coffee on the veranda; to myself the arduous duty of slicingbacon was assigned; and the Judge lent each man his good-humoredand voluble counsel. And when Miggles, assisted by the Judge andour Hibernian "deck passenger," set the table with all the availablecrockery, we had become quite joyous, in spite of the rain that beatagainst windows, the wind that whirled down the chimney, the two ladieswho whispered together in the corner, or the magpie who uttered asatirical and croaking commentary on their conversation from his perchabove. In the now bright, blazing fire we could see that the walls werepapered with illustrated journals, arranged with feminine taste anddiscrimination. The furniture was extemporized, and adapted from candleboxes and packing-cases, and covered with gay calico, or the skin ofsome animal. The armchair of the helpless Jim was an ingenious variationof a flour barrel. There was neatness, and even a taste for thepicturesque, to be seen in the few details of the long low room.
The meal was a culinary success. But more, it was a socialtriumph--chiefly, I think, owing to the rare tact of Miggles inguiding the conversation, asking all the questions herself, yet bearingthroughout a frankness that rejected the idea of any concealment onher own part, so that we talked of ourselves, of our prospects, of thejourney, of the weather, of each other--of everything but our host andhostess. It must be confessed that Miggles's conversation was neverelegant, rarely grammatical, and that at times she employed expletivesthe use of which had generally been yielded to our sex. But they weredelivered with such a lighting-up of teeth and eyes, and were usuallyfollowed by a laugh--a laugh peculiar to Miggles--so frank and honestthat it seemed to clear the moral atmosphere.
Once during the meal we heard a noise like the rubbing of a heavy bodyagainst the outer walls of the house. This was shortly followed by ascratching and sniffling at the door. "That's Joaquin," said Miggles, inreply to our questioning glances; "would you like to see him?" Beforewe could answer she had opened the door, and disclosed a half-growngrizzly, who instantly raised himself on his haunches, with hisforepaws hanging down in the popular attitude of mendicancy, and lookedadmiringly at Miggles, with a very singular resemblance in his manner toYuba Bill. "That's my watch dog," said Miggles, in explanation. "Oh,he don't bite," she added, as the two lady passengers fluttered intoa corner. "Does he, old Toppy?" (the latter remark being addresseddirectly to the sagacious Joaquin). "I tell you what, boys," continuedMiggles after she had fed and closed the door on URSA MINOR, "youwere in big luck that Joaquin wasn't hanging round when you droppedin tonight." "Where was he?" asked the Judge. "With me," said Miggles."Lord love you; he trots round with me nights like as if he was a man."
We were silent for a few moments, and listened to the wind. Perhaps weall had the same picture before us--of Miggles walking through the rainywoods, with her savage guardian at her side. The Judge, I remember, saidsomething about Una and her lion; but Miggles received it as she didother compliments, with quiet gravity. Whether she was altogetherunconscious of the admiration she excited--she could hardly have beenoblivious of Yuba Bill's adoration--I know not; but her very franknesssuggested a perfect sexual equality that was cruelly humiliating to theyounger members of our party.
The incident of the bear did not add anything in Miggles's favor to theopinions of those of her own sex who were present. In fact, the repastover, a chillness radiated from the two lady passengers that no pineboughs brought in by Yuba Bill and cast as a sacrifice upon the hearthcould wholly overcome. Miggles felt it; and, suddenly declaring thatit was time to "turn in," offered to show the ladies to their bed in anadjoining room. "You boys will have to camp out here by the fire as wellas you can," she added, "for thar ain't but the one room."
Our sex--by which, my dear sir, I allude of course to the strongerportion of humanity--has been generally relieved from the imputation ofcuriosity, or a fondness for gossip. Yet I am constrained to saythat hardly had the door closed on Miggles than we crowded together,whispering, snickering, smiling, and exchanging suspicions, surmises,and a thousand speculations in regard to our pretty hostess and hersingular companion. I fear that we even hustled that imbecile paralytic,who sat like a voiceless Memnon in our midst, gazing with the sereneindifference of the Past in his passionate eyes upon our wordy counsels.In the midst of an exciting discussion the door opened again, andMiggles re-entered.
But not, apparently, the same Miggles who a few hours before had flashedupon us. Her eyes were downcast, and as she hesitated for a moment onthe threshold, with a blanket on her arm, she seemed to have left behindher the frank fearlessness which had charmed us a moment before. Cominginto the room, she drew a low stool beside the paralytic's chair, satdown, drew the blanket over her shoulders, and saying, "If it's all thesame to you, boys, as we're rather crowded, I'll stop here tonight,"took the invalid's withered hand in her own, and turned her eyes uponthe dying fire. An instinctive feeling that this was only premonitoryto more confidential relations, and perhaps some shame at our previouscuriosity, kept us silent. The rain still beat upon the roof, wanderinggusts of wind stirred the embers into momentary brightness, until, in alull of the elements, Miggles suddenly lifted up her head, and, throwingher hair over her shoulder, turned her face upon the group and asked:
"Is there any of you that knows me?"
There was no reply.
"Think again! I lived at Marysville in '53. Everybody knew me there, andeverybody had the right to know me. I kept the Polka saloon until I cameto live with Jim. That's six years ago. Perhaps I've changed some."
The absence of recognition may have disconcerted her. She turned herhead to the fire again, and it was some seconds before she again spoke,and then more rapidly:
"Well, you see I thought some of you must have known me. There'sno great harm done, anyway. What I was going to say was this: Jimhere"--she took his hand in both of hers as she spoke--"used to know me,if you didn't, and spent a heap of money upon me. I reckon he sp
ent allhe had. And one day--it's six years ago this winter--Jim came into myback room, sat down on my sofy, like as you see him in that chair, andnever moved again without help. He was struck all of a heap, and neverseemed to know what ailed him. The doctors came and said as how itwas caused all along of his way of life--for Jim was mighty free andwild-like--and that he would never get better, and couldn't last longanyway. They advised me to send him to Frisco to the hospital, for hewas no good to anyone and would be a baby all his life. Perhaps it wassomething in Jim's eye, perhaps it was that I never had a baby, but Isaid 'No.' I was rich then, for I was popular with everybody--gentlemenlike yourself, sir, came to see me--and I sold out my business andbought this yer place, because it was sort of out of the way of travel,you see, and I brought my baby here."
With a woman's intuitive tact and poetry, she had, as she spoke, slowlyshifted her position so as to bring the mute figure of the ruined manbetween her and her audience, hiding in the shadow behind it, as ifshe offered it as a tacit apology for her actions. Silent andexpressionless, it yet spoke for her; helpless, crushed, and smittenwith the Divine thunderbolt, it still stretched an invisible arm aroundher.
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, forI was used to company and excitement. I couldn't get any woman to helpme, 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 NorthFork, Jim and I managed to worry through. The Doctor would run up fromSacramento once in a while. He'd ask to see 'Miggles's baby,' ashe called Jim, and when he'd go away, he'd say, 'Miggles; you're atrump--God bless you'; and it didn't seem so lonely after that. Butthe last time he was here he said, as he opened the door to go, 'Do youknow, Miggles, your baby will grow up to be a man yet and an honor tohis mother; but not here, Miggles, not here!' And I thought he went awaysad--and--and--" and here Miggles's voice and head were somehow bothlost 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 tohang around here, until they found they wasn't wanted, and the women arekind--and don't call. I was pretty lonely until I picked up Joaquin inthe woods yonder one day, when he wasn't so high, and taught him to begfor his dinner; and then thar's Polly--that's the magpie--she knows noend 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 outquite into the firelight, "Jim--why, boys, you would admire to see howmuch he knows for a man like him. Sometimes I bring him flowers, and helooks at 'em just as natural as if he knew 'em; and times, when we'resitting alone, I read him those things on the wall. Why, Lord!" saidMiggles, with her frank laugh, "I've read him that whole side of thehouse 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 havedevoted your youthful life?"
"Well, you see," said Miggles, "it would be playing it rather low downon Jim, to take advantage of his being so helpless. And then, too, if wewere man and wife, now, we'd both know that I was bound to do what I donow of my own accord."
"But you are young yet and attractive--"
"It's getting late," said Miggles, gravely, "and you'd better all turnin. Good night, boys"; and, throwing the blanket over her head, Miggleslaid herself down beside Jim's chair, her head pillowed on the low stoolthat held his feet, and spoke no more. The fire slowly faded from thehearth; we each sought our blankets in silence; and presently there wasno sound in the long room but the pattering of the rain upon the roofand the heavy breathing of the sleepers.
It was nearly morning when I awoke from a troubled dream. The storm hadpassed, the stars were shining, and through the shutterless window thefull moon, lifting itself over the solemn pines without, looked intothe room. It touched the lonely figure in the chair with an infinitecompassion, and seemed to baptize with a shining flood the lowly head ofthe woman whose hair, as in the sweet old story, bathed the feet of himshe loved. It even lent a kindly poetry to the rugged outline of YubaBill, half-reclining on his elbow between them and his passengers, withsavagely patient eyes keeping watch and ward. And then I fell asleepand only woke at broad day, with Yuba Bill standing over me, and "Allaboard" ringing in my ears.
Coffee was waiting for us on the table, but Miggles was gone. Wewandered about the house and lingered long after the horses wereharnessed, but she did not return. It was evident that she wished toavoid a formal leave-taking, and had so left us to depart as we hadcome. After we had helped the ladies into the coach, we returned tothe house and solemnly shook hands with the paralytic Jim, as solemnlysettling him back into position after each handshake. Then we looked forthe last time around the long low room, at the stool where Miggles hadsat, and slowly took our seats in the waiting coach. The whip cracked,and we were off!
But as we reached the highroad, Bill's dexterous hand laid the sixhorses back on their haunches, and the stage stopped with a jerk. Forthere, on a little eminence beside the road, stood Miggles, her hairflying, her eyes sparkling, her white handkerchief waving, and her whiteteeth flashing a last "good-by." We waved our hats in return. And thenYuba Bill, as if fearful of further fascination, madly lashed his horsesforward, and we sank back in our seats. We exchanged not a word until wereached the North Fork, and the stage drew up at the Independence House.Then, the Judge leading, we walked into the barroom and took our placesgravely at the bar.
"Are your glasses charged, gentlemen?" said the Judge, solemnly takingoff his white hat.
They were.
"Well, then, here's to MIGGLES. GOD BLESS HER!"
Perhaps He had. Who knows?