A California Girl Part 22

Among those who were sitting on the porch were Mr. and Mrs. Bates. They had always been very friendly with the Hernes and lived only about two miles distant from them.

A little later in the evening the croquet players and those who had been strolling about the grounds were coming towards the house, just as Mr.

Bates was relating to Mr. and Mrs. Herne what to him had been a very trying experience. Mr. Bates always called Mr. Herne Charles. He said:

"Charles, I don't know that I would have been here to-night if it had not been for my wife."

"Why, how is that?" said Mr. Herne.

Mr. Bates replied: "Well, I will tell you. This morning, Weeks' boy was playing with my boy in the barn. There were a number of sacks of barley and wheat on the floor. The boys got to scuffling, one boy trying to throw the other down. At last my boy got Weeks' boy down and gave him a blow and ran out of the barn with Weeks' boy after him. They both ran out into the orchard and then over the fence to Page's barn. Now, when Weeks' boy ran after my lad he left the barn door open. There was no one about the barn at the time the boys left. My man and I were at the further end of the ranch fixing the line fence. When we came up at noon we found the barn door open and that fine four-year-old colt of mine and a lot of hogs were all in the barn eating grain. They had torn every sack open and had eaten more than half of it. The colt had eaten so much as to make him bloat. When I saw it all I felt so mad I had to use some hot words. When I went to the house I told my wife about it. At first she seemed put out, but when she saw how wrathy I was she tried to cool me down. I asked where the boy was, and she said, 'Weeks' boy was here and asked for our boy to go to his place to play and have dinner. They said they were going to get Page's boy to play with them.' I felt so worried about the colt and so mad at the boys I could not eat my dinner.

I told my wife I did not feel like coming here to-night, and when I said that I saw I had made matters worse, so I went out to the barn and worked over the colt some more. When the boy came home I had him tell me all about it. I told him if he or any boy with him ever left the barn door open again he would not want to sit down for a week."

Just here Mrs. Bates said to Mrs. Herne: "Henry does take such things so hard. It seems as if he can never get over it."

Mr. Bates spoke up a little louder and said: "Such thoughtless, careless doings as that are enough to make any one lose his temper. Why, I came very near losing the colt, besides the damage the hogs did to the grain."

Mrs. Herne said: "Mr. Bates, I must tell you what an experience Stella had yesterday, and see if you don't think she had something to disturb her."

Mr. Bates said: "Would like to hear it; misery always loves company."

So Mrs. Herne commenced telling about the bottle of ink falling into Stella's lap. Just as she commenced to relate the incident Penloe came on the porch with Mrs. French, and they took a seat near Mrs. Herne.

About two minutes later Prof. French and Stella joined the group, and before Mrs. Herne had got to that part of the story where she asks Stella, "What is the matter?" and Stella laughed and said: "I got some new figures on my wedding dress, don't you think they are pretty?" about all the guests were now grouped about Mrs. Herne. They were either sitting on the wide porch or standing near by. When Mrs. Herne had finished, Mr. Bates said in a comical kind of way: "If that had been my wedding dress, I would have felt so mad that I would feel like throwing the youngster out of the window and swearing a blue streak."

Turning to Stella, he said: "I have got no such control over myself as you have. I wish I had."

Mrs. French said: "Stella, how could you take it so cheerfully? Why, if that had been my wedding dress, I would have felt too mad to speak; in fact, I don't know just what I would do."

Pretty Miss Grace Nettleton, a young lady full of fun and always the life of any party, laughingly said: "As I intend to be an old maid, no bottle of ink will ever fall on my wedding dress, but if such a thing should happen I would feel like going to bed and having a good cry."

Several other ladies remarked: "I don't see how Stella could have been so peaceful and pleasant. I know I never could."

Miss Baker, the school teacher, who had many trying pupils, remarked to Mrs. French: "I wish I could control myself like Stella; how easy I could govern the scholars."

Penloe said: "Did any of you ever hear the story of Shuka?"

Several answered: "No."

Mrs. French said: "Do tell it, Penloe."

"Yes," said Mrs. Herne, "we all would like to hear it." The company became very attentive while Penloe related the following story with telling effect:

"There was a great sage called Vyasa.[3] This Vyasa was the writer of the Vedanta philosophy, a holy man. His father had tried to become a very perfect man and failed; his grandfather tried and failed; his great-grandfather tried and failed; he himself did not succeed perfectly, but his son Shuka was born perfect. He taught this son, and after teaching him himself, he sent him to the court of King Janaka. He was a great king and was called Videha. Videha means 'outside the body.' Although a king, he had entirely forgotten that he had a body; he was a spirit all the time. The boy was sent to be taught by him. The king knew that Vyasa's son was coming to him to learn, so he made certain arrangements beforehand, and when the boy presented himself at the gates of the palace, the guards took no notice of him whatsoever.

They only gave him a place to sit, and he sat there for three days and nights, n.o.body speaking to him, n.o.body asking who he was or whence he was. He was the son of this great sage, his father was honored by the whole country, and he himself was a most respectable person; yet the low vulgar guards of the palace would take no notice of him.

[Footnote 3: Karma Yoga, Vivekananda.]

"After that, suddenly, the ministers of the king and all the high officials came there and received him with the greatest honors. They took him in and showed him into splendid rooms, gave him the most fragrant baths and wonderful dresses, and for eight days they kept him there in all kinds of luxury. That face did not change; he was the same in the midst of this luxury as at the door. Then he was brought before the king. The king was on his throne, music was playing, and dancing and other amus.e.m.e.nts going on. The king gave him a cup of milk, full to the brim, and asked him to go round the hall seven times without spilling a drop. The boy took the cup and proceeded in the midst of this music and the beautiful faces. Seven times he went round, and not a drop was spilled. The boy's mind could not be attracted by anything in the world unless he allowed it. And when he brought the cup to the king, the king said to him: 'What your father has taught you and what you have learned yourself, I only repeat; you have known the truth. Go home.'"

When Penloe had finished Mrs. Herne said: "Thank you, Penloe, that is very good, for it brings out the idea so well."

Mrs. French said: "Is not that very fine, Penloe? I never heard that thought expressed before. It is new to me."

Dr. Finch, who was a well educated young dentist, said: "That thought, though old to the people of the Orient, is just beginning to come to the front in the literature of the West. I was very much gratified in listening to Penloe."

Saunders, the merchant, laughed and said: "If it had been me sitting at the gate, instead of Shuka, I would have got mad in ten minutes and gone home, if the guards had treated me in that manner."

It began to get a little cool on the porch and the company were invited into the large double parlors to play some games. After enjoying a variety of games for an hour, it was proposed to have some music. The Hernes had a fine-toned piano, and it was always kept in tune. Several young gentlemen asked Miss Grace Nettleton for a song, and all the other members of the company joined in the request. Miss Nettleton said she would like some one to play the accompaniment, and Prof. French said: "I will play for you."

As Miss Grace Nettleton was a young lady of romantic turn of mind and very fond of reading love stories and singing love songs, she selected one to sing according to her taste, from which we give the following verse:

"Sitting on the garden gate, Where the little b.u.t.terfly reposes, Now I hate to tell, but then I must, 'Twas love among the roses."

Some of the young people being delighted with that sentimental song, called for another, for they could not think of her taking her seat after singing only one; so she very kindly sang another. In a very soft, sweet voice, she sang a song containing the following verse:

"I love to think of thee, when evening closes, Over landscapes bright and fair, I love to think of thee when earth reposes, To calm a grief which none can share.

When every eyelid hovers When every heart but mine is free, 'Tis then, O then, I love to think of thee."

If the true feeling of one or two young gentlemen present could be told, they certainly would like to have had Miss Grace Nettleton think of them in that way. After receiving many compliments from the company, the young lady took her seat. Mrs. French, who was a professional musician like her husband, was called for and sang with fine effect, "I am dreaming, yes I am dreaming, the happy hours away," etc, etc. Her fine cultivated voice was much appreciated by the company and they were eager to have Mrs. French sing again, but she wished to save her voice, and got her husband to sing "Beautiful Isle of the Sea." His fine baritone voice was a great treat to the guests, for it was seldom such talent as that of himself and wife was heard in the parlors of Orangeville.

Stella was called for and Professor French played the accompaniment, while she in a very sweet and feeling voice sang, "Hark! I Hear an Angel Sing." As her graceful form stood beside the instrument with her face and eyes turned a little upwards, she seemed to be lost to everything mundane, and when she sang those soul-melting words that she heard the angel sing, the effect was complete, for it seemed to those present as if it was the voice of an angel singing those words and not that of a human being.

The attention was so great that when she finished you could have heard a pin drop. The effect was very fine. There were some there who will never forget that song. Professor French and his wife were very much taken with Stella's singing; both of them pressed her hand and thanked her for her sweet song. They afterwards said, in all their musical career they never heard anything to equal it of its kind. The song was entirely new to every one present.

Mrs. French, who was half in doubt in her own mind as to whether Penloe had any musical talent or not, said: "Perhaps Penloe will favor us with some music."

Prof. French said: "Yes, Penloe, I would like to hear you very much."

Mrs. Herne laughed and said: "It seems strange to think that, though Penloe has made many visits to our house, I never thought to ask him if he could play, for we always have so much interesting conversation that I never think about music."

Stella laughed and said: "Why, Clara, I don't know myself whether Penloe can play the piano, for he is so modest about his attainments. We have sung together many times, but I am like you, I never thought to ask him if he could play." Turning to Penloe, she said: "Now, Penloe, I do want to hear you play so much"; and when he rose to take his seat at the instrument curiosity reached its height in the minds of Mr. and Mrs.

Herne as well as Stella, so eager were they to see his personality manifested in music.

The eyes of each member of the company were now riveted on that remarkable figure who had just begun to finger a few keys with one hand.

He did not do as some would-be performers sometimes do, strike eight to ten keys as soon as they touch the piano, but, strange to say, he commenced playing with one hand.

We will here give the words concerning Penloe's performance as told to a friend in San Francis...o...b.. Mrs. French in her own unique way, as follows:

"My husband and I being at a party one evening given by Mr. and Mrs.

Herne in Orangeville, I met a gentleman there by the name of Penloe, who certainly is the most gifted man I ever have met in all my travels.

There is a power in his personality that is irresistible; you cannot help being drawn towards him. But his power is of that kind that is uplifting and elevating, and there is something very sweet in his nature. After supper I took a little walk with him about the grounds, and his conversation was exceedingly interesting. I will never forget the talk I had with him. He seemed to be able to bring out of me ideas which I had never expressed before; in fact, making me talk, as it were, above myself. In thinking it over, I must say my own conversation was a surprise to me; and as for him, while he does not take you all of a sudden into great depths of thought, or attach wings to you and have you flying through the heavens, yet he has the genius of taking the most commonplace subjects and causing you to see such an interest and beauty in them as you never saw before. After we all a.s.sembled in the large double parlors and had some games, there were several who favored the company with instrumental and vocal music, when I thought it would be no more than proper to ask Penloe to play. After he had been seated at the piano a few minutes, I was a little in doubt whether I had not made a mistake in asking him, for he commenced playing with one hand and only touching one key at a time, more like a child playing. He still went on playing with one hand, but touching two and three keys at a time. I noticed some ladies and gentlemen began looking at each other and then at Penloe, hardly knowing what to make of such playing. As he proceeded further in his performance with one hand, though the playing was simple, yet there was a peculiarity about it that can hardly be expressed as he went along with his apparently amateur performance. Then he used his other hand and fingered a few more keys occasionally, and I felt an interest growing in me, and also those around me seemed to share the same feeling. A little later and the fingers of both hands were going a little more rapidly over the key-board, and the childish and amateur performer had ceased and the playing began to impress me as being that of a young professional. I began to feel myself more drawn into the playing, and when the playing of a young professional had given place to the experienced professional, I was all attention; but it was not long before the professional had disappeared and I knew that the music I was listening to now was that of a genius. I was conscious a great master was at the instrument, and after that I seemed not to be conscious of the performer or those about me, and how long I was in that condition I do not know. When I came to myself again, the music had ceased, there was no performer there, for Penloe had left the room.

"In talking with some others of the party about Penloe's playing, it seemed to have produced exactly the same effect on them as it did on me.

I will, in a very inadequate way, tell you as near as I can the impression it made upon me. I felt, when he first commenced to play in his child-like way, as if all our minds were very much scattered; that is, I mean as if a great separateness and distinction existed, and as he proceeded with his playing it seemed to have the effect of collecting our minds and bringing them together till we all seemed to be just one mind. Then there arose in this one mind a desire, and the desire grew till it created a disturbance, and it kept increasing and growing more powerful till it burst into a storm of pa.s.sion, and the storm became furious within; for it seemed at times as if it would rend and tear me to pieces, and I was about to be conquered by it. I felt like saying, 'Must I yield? Is yielding the only way out of this? Must I give way and let it have full sway over me?' I said, 'Must I let it die out by consuming its own self?' And as I was about to cry out in despair, 'There is no other way; I will feed the fire till there is nothing left for it to burn;' and just as I was on the brink, on the edge of the precipice, as it were, the fury of the storm being at its very height, then all of a sudden I saw a light and the storm began to lose some of its fury, and the clouds appeared not so black, and the light seemed growing brighter. At last the storm ceased within me, and the dark clouds were disappearing fast, till the last one had gone and a wave of sunshine swept over my soul, and I felt like saying, 'How peaceful it is after the storm,' and while I was enjoying that sweet feeling of peace a change came over me, I began to be lifted, as it were out of my little self, and myself and the world seemed to be larger than I had ever imagined. I began, as it were, to rise, and great as the world had grown I had grown greater still. Then I entered a much larger world than even the great one I had lived in, and when I had outgrown that grand world, I went into another still more beautiful, and on I went rising out of one beautiful world into another far superior till I reached a condition that human language cannot convey the blissful state of the soul in me. Oh, the happiness I then realized. I shall never forget. My husband, in speaking of the piece Penloe played, said: 'That music was never composed on earth, it was born in heaven,' Mr. Herne heard my husband make that remark, and said, 'In order to play that kind of music, you have got to live in the same world as Penloe does. That is how it has its birth.'"

It is true, as Mrs. French told her friend, that after the music had lost some of its power over her she realized that Penloe had left the room. The piano being near the door, which was open, and no one sitting between the door and the piano, when Penloe ceased playing he quietly left the room and sat in a chair on the porch. About five minutes later, a soft footstep was heard on the porch and the sound of a light rustle of a dress, for Stella had taken a seat beside Penloe. His performance at the piano had stirred the dear girl's nature to its greatest depths and also had scaled its lofty heights. On that porch, gazing at the grand canopy of the heavens, those two souls listened to such strains of music as only the purified hear.

CHAPTER XXIII.