Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-11-22
"Call me Thompson, that'n do"
Have you lived in this neighborhood iong?"
"Yes"

"CaIl me Thompson, thatn do"
Have you lived in this neishborhood iong7"
"How long?"
"I'll tell yer by and bye"
His replies to my interrogatories we're given
In hstless, indifferent manner, which .bvi-
ously betokened . repugnance to conversation,
Tor the time being, at least 20 / permi ted
silence to reign again.
For the next twenty minutes We giided
nolseiessly through the gathering shadows
wnen the boats prov was turn.d toward the
snore, and with sigh OF relief and pang Of
satisfaction l became aware that We had
Seaehed the objective point Of our journey:
oancno stepped into the shallow water and
pushed the boat high up on the shore, and un-
ridden by my new friend Thompson rose
from my position in the bow and stepped out
upon the sand Sancho, quite Indifferent to
our presence, sat upon the boat, rested his
chm In tho palms of his hands and looked out
toward the setting sun Thompson turned to
me and spoke:
Well go in the house now, mister. and I
want to tell you this one thing wouldn't a
Srousht yer hyer, only't you don't know
taIkin' about our trouble. That's somethin'
amt mentioned to the old woman sence it
happened, cause feel that the least suddint
startd break her old heart guess you'll hat
want to be introduced. For altho' we're
poorer'n them crows over on the beach thar,
she's got some o. them high-falutin' idees she
picked up among the proud old Mesicans atore
Fremont took Californy."
My names Browning" replied.
wall, Mister Browning, Jest foller me-"
did 20 in silence. In q few moments we
reached the summit Of the little bluff on which
the old adobe stood. Neatness reigned every
where, and breathed the balmy atmosphere
Of thousand flowers. Lilies, roses, holly
hocks, heliotrope and mignonettes grew all
about me In luxurious abundance and the
white washed wallis of the ola adobe were
almost covered with golden mass of nastur-
tium vines.
Mister Browning, this ere little garden O.
mine my only care now, and spend most all
my time among them beds a beautifyin' on 'em,
ana q maxim on EN- just as bright n pleasant
es kin tur her sake. For its beautiful things
tibet softens the solitude NV a lonely heart. And
the only beautiful things kin give to her now
Is them flowers, nursed into life by me and
painted by the hand o. God Thar she is now
in her old seat
Looking toward the point indicated by the
wave of his hand l beheld q dark-skinned.
white-haired woman dressed in black She had
been seated upon rustic bench in n small ar
Dor, formed by an ingenlously interviewer
mass OF hel1otrope bushes, but arose at our ap-
proach and advanced to meet U.S. My miro
duction to her was brief. but evidently served
its purpose. for with a stately bow, which one
would hardly have expected from the wife Of
the uncouth Thompson, she pleasantly and
quietly shook my hand.
We'll go in now, mister" said Thompson,
supper is ready"
On entering the living room Of the house
was struck by tho cleanliness and simplicity of
my surroundings. Save cor the rafters over
head, which seemed to have been discolored
by the accumulated dust of years. everything
was neatness itself. The newly whItewashed
walls, the well-seoured floor and the neat
wooden furniture told their own story My
hostess was an excellent housewife. With a
graceful movement Of her right hand and
bow that was almost regal she motioned me to
a seat at the table.